


Christmas at Gotham Harbour

by teacuphuman



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), The Dark Knight Rises
Genre: Christmas AU, Don't Like Don't Read, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, Loss of Parent(s), M/M, Past Child Abuse, Sexual Tension, bottom!Bane, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-03 14:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 27,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8717296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacuphuman/pseuds/teacuphuman
Summary: The owner of a toy store (John Blake) falls in love with a man (Bane) who cares for his orphaned niece.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This holiday fic is based on the movie called Christmas with Holly (which doesn't suck too badly) and the book Christmas at Friday Harbour (which is a horrific pile of rape culture, misogyny, and toxic masculinity disguised as a holiday romance). I have taken a lot of liberties with the story because it was pretty weak to begin with.
> 
> Special thanks to [oceaxe](http://archiveofourown.org/users/oceaxe/pseuds/oceaxe) for pulling beta duty on this for me!

John Blake’s first impression of Talia al Ghul is that no one is ever going to mess with her. And that’s before he meets Bane. 

 

The young girl pushes through the door of John’s store, The Bird’s Nest, and goes straight for the fairy houses. Alfred, John’s seasoned employee, is catering to a birthday party in the back room, so John kneels beside the slight girl.

 

“Hi, do you like fairies?” John asks, the twelve year old inside of him snickering at the lameness of the double entendre.

 

The girl glares at him, and he takes a step back. Her stare is fierce and a little terrifying, but John’s knows a guarded kid when he sees one.

 

“I made that, you know,” John tells her, unlatching the clasp so the entire front wall swings outward, revealing miniature furniture made from corks, thimbles, and all manner of recycled materials.

 

Talia’s eyes go wide and she catches her bottom lip in her teeth, holding her hands to her chest.

 

“It’s okay, you can play with it, just be careful. A fairy lives here, and she wouldn’t like it if we accidentally broke something.”

 

Talia picks up the clamshell bed and examines it closely.

 

“Did you know that if you build a fairy house, and a fairy likes it enough to live in it, you’re required to give that fairy a name? Like a gift. I haven’t found the right name for the fairy that lives here, yet. Do you think you could help me with that?” John asks, watching the serious expression return to the girl’s face. She scrunches up her nose and frowns at the house.

 

“It’s okay if you can’t think of anything right away. It’s important to get a name right, and sometimes that takes time.”

 

Talia puts the bed back, then leans in to whisper in John’s ear. “Clover.”

 

John smiles and opens his mouth to tell her what a perfect name that is when the door to the shop is wrenched open. John notices the man’s bald head first, then his tremendous size. He doesn’t see the scars until he speaks.

 

“Talia, what are you doing?” He demands, his voice booming.

 

John expects the girl to startle, but she simply goes to the man, taking his hand in hers. It’s then that John realizes the man is nearly shaking with panic, and that Talia has been in his store for at least five minutes without a parent. Five minutes when you’ve lost sight of your child is an eternity.

 

“Hi, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize she had wandered off,” John says, standing up.

 

The man’s steely gaze snaps to him, and John shivers with the intensity he sees there.

 

“Who are you?” The man asks curtly, being pulled toward John by the small hand in his own.

 

“John Blake. I own the shop,” John sticks out his hand, but the man just stares at him. “Right, well, me and, um, Talia, was it? We were just talking about the fairy houses.”

 

“She does not speak,” the man says.

 

John looks from the man to the little girl, who is ignoring them now and happily rearranging the furniture in the fairy house.

 

“Oh, um, well, she named the fairy that lives there Clover, so…” John shrugs and smiles.

 

The man watches Talia play, looking confused, and a little hurt if John’s being honest. 

 

“Let me know if you need anything,” John murmurs and returns to the counter.

 

Talia wanders the store, the large man trailing behind her in silence. When she picks out a book and hands it to him, the man nods and tucks it under his arm. By the time they get to the front counter, he’s loaded down with three more books, a pair of fairy wings, and a hand painted unicorn figurine.

 

John rings them through, smiling politely. Talia grins at him over the counter and John gets an idea.

 

“Hey, have you ever listened to a conch shell?” he asks, looking to the man for permission.

 

The man nods, watching John closely as he pulls out a shell half the size of Talia’s head from beneath the counter. He uses it as a paperweight, mostly, but John has a hunch it may have a higher function today.

 

He holds the shell to Talia’s ear, her eyes mouth dropping open when she hears the resonating sounds of the store in the shell.

 

“Conch shells can be magical, and they are very good at keeping secrets. I used to know a boy your age who told his shell every time he was feeling sad or angry, or frustrated. He even sang to the shell when he was happy. And the shell never stopped singing back to him, no matter what he told it.”

 

Talia bit her lip again, pressing the conch closer to her ear.

 

“Do you think you’d like to take this shell home with you? Maybe you can talk to it when you feel like you can’t talk to anyone else. And maybe, when you’re happy, you can sing to it and it will sing back.”

 

Talia nodded enthusiastically, looking up at the man with pleading eyes.

 

“You may,” the man sighed, pulling out his wallet.

 

Talia wanders around the store, humming into the conch.

 

“Conch shells are not magic. You lied to her,” the man states, handing over his credit card.

 

John gives him a stern look. “Encouraging imagination and lying to a child are two very different things. You say she doesn’t speak, well, she spoke to me. I’m trying to help.”

 

“You’re new to Gotham Harbour.”

 

“Is that a question?” John asks, putting the man’s purchases in a paper bag with pink ribbons on the handle.

 

“Why did you move here? Most people who move here are retired.”

 

“Well, I’m not most people,” John tells him saucily. “And I wanted to open the store somewhere I thought it would be a useful addition to the community.”

 

The man nods, stilling Talia as she flits past. He takes her hand, and with a nod to John, leaves the store.


	2. Chapter 2

Bane is still shaken by losing Talia in town. He’d turned away for a moment to talk to someone and she slipped away. The few frantic minutes she was out of his sight were some of the worst of his life. All he could think was that she was another piece of his heart he’d failed to keep safe.

 

His hands clench on the steering wheel, and he wills himself to calm down. Talia is safe. She’s in the backseat of the truck, kicking his seat and humming happily into the conch shell. Bane thinks about the strange man at the toy shop. John Blake. Talia has obviously deemed him someone safe, and Bane can’t help but be a little wounded that Talia chose to speak to a stranger first. 

 

The psychologist said it might happen; that talking to someone unattached to her life might be easier for her, and that he should encourage whatever communication she chose to express. Still, it’s been four months and Bane longs to hear her voice.

 

He forces himself to make conversation on the drive home to engage Talia. He tells her about the eagles they see, and how they build their nests. How the males and the females will take turns hunting and incubating the eggs. Talia listens attentively, then goes back to humming.

 

“You spoke to that man, John,” Bane states, watching her in the rearview mirror. 

 

Talia goes silent, ducking her head to hide behind her hair. 

 

“I’m glad you spoke. I wish I had been there,” he says, as gently as he can. “What helped you find your voice?”

 

Talia holds up the shell, and Bane frowns at the road. She’d spoken before she had the shell, so it’s a frustrating answer. He open his mouth to tell her the shell isn’t magic, but he thinks about his own childhood, and that of her mother’s. Bane and his siblings were certainly not allowed to believe in anything but the harsh realities their father taught them. Perhaps it had been different when their mother was alive, but Bane had been too young to remember.

 

When he’d gained guardianship of Talia after Nadia died, he and his younger brother, Barsad, moved every one of Talia’s possessions into their house on the island, recreating Talia’s environment to the best of their abilities in order to help her settle. Those possessions include a lot more white, pink, and sparkle than either man is used to. Nadia clearly indulged Talia’s love of whimsy, and Bane swore to do the same. 

 

So he keeps his opinions to himself and asks if Talia will let him hear the shell’s song when they get home. Talia grins at him in the mirror and nods. Bane finds himself smiling back, though it feels strained and ill-fitted to his features.

 

“We will return to the store another day, if you like.”

 

Talia reaches forward to tap him on the head, something he’s learned is her way of showing him affection. Bane leans into the touch, and relaxes a little. Talia is safe. Talia is here. He hasn’t failed her yet.

 

As they drive, Bane’s mind wanders back to John Blake. He wonders what kind of a young man moves to a small island community to open a toy store. He makes a mental note to have Barsad look into him. If Blake is going to be someone Talia seeks out for friendship, it will serve them well to know as much about him as possible.

 

Barsad comes out of the house when they pull up, and Talia bounds out of the truck to give him a hug. He picks her up, swinging her in a circle and settling her on his hip.

 

“She has functioning legs, she can walk,” Bane states for the hundredth time.

 

“Shall I carry you as well, brother?” Barsad asks, bending his knees a little. “Jump on.”

 

Talia giggles, and Bane relishes the sound. 

 

“I’ve finished painting your bathroom, little one.” Barsad tells her, climbing the porch stairs. Talia squirms until he lets her down, and runs into the house, her small feet loud on the stairs.

 

“Shoes!” Bane calls after her. Barsad makes a clucking noise behind him so Bane shoves him lightly into the wall and goes after Talia.

 

He finds her standing, shoes removed, in the middle of the giant soaker tub in the bathroom next to her bedroom. The walls are bubblegum pink, trimmed in white, and the small, round window over the tub has been propped open with a chunk of wood to vent the paint fumes. It’s a lot of pink.

 

Over the past four months, Bane and Barsad have made it their mission to make the house as safe and comfortable as possible for Talia. It’s a fixer-upper that Barsad bought for a pittance of what the land is worth, with the plan to raze the building and start from scratch, but weeks after signing the paperwork, they got the news of Nadia’s accident, and Bane was being handed a withdrawn six year old with haunted eyes.

 

Barsad set his work crew to reinforcing the structural integrity of the building, and Bane ordered new appliances for the kitchen. Nadia had left care of Talia to Bane and he intended to take his responsibility seriously. That meant providing her with a home, not just a place to lay her head.

 

Talia is a cautious child, though she’s taken to her uncles quickly, no doubt sensing in them a grief that matches her own. When she’s happy, she lights up, laughing and smiling so brightly Bane thinks his chest might burst. Before today, he hadn’t thought anyone but he and Barsad would ever see her joy.

 

Talia climbs out, tugging Bane over and pushing at him until he’s laying reclined in the deep tub.

 

Barsad leans against the doorframe and raises an eyebrow. “Well, that explains why she insisted on the biggest one we could find.”

 

“Talia, this room is for you,” Bane explains, touched by her thoughtfulness.

 

Talia pats him on the head, dropping a rubber duck in his lap and skipping out of the room.

 

Barsad smiles lazily. “Her heart is large.”

 

Bane hums in agreement, turning the duck over in his large hands. “She spoke today.”

 

“When?” Barsad straightens, eagerness evident in his voice.

 

“Not to me. To the man that runs the new toy store in town.”

 

“A stranger?” Barsad frowns, and Bane knows exactly how he feels.

 

“It is good that she spoke. He gave her a shell to converse with. To encourage her,” Bane explains.

 

“John Blake, yes? Alfred Pennyworth is working in his store.” 

 

“Then we shall know his life story within days,” Bane says, sardonically.

 

“You must approve of this man if you allowed him to interact with Talia,” Barsad points out.

 

Bane looks away, pulling himself out of the tub with a grunt. He cannot deny that he’s looking forward to being able to soak away his aches as soon as Talia is in bed.

 

“I lost her,” he admits.

 

Basad narrows his eyes. “Lost her?”

 

“She is small and quick. I looked away for a moment and she vanished. I found her in the toy store. Something must have drawn her eye.”

 

“Did you speak with her about wandering off?” Barsad crosses his arms over his chest.

 

“Of course. She seemed apologetic for the three seconds I had her attention.” Bane rubs a hand over his scalp.

 

Barsad smirks. “Who knew six year olds were capricious?”

 

“Nadia should have left us an instruction manual,” Bane grumbles, not for the first time.

 

Barsad chuckles, squeezing Bane’s shoulder. “It could have easily been I who lost sight of her.”

 

“Then we would really have had reason to worry,” Bane tells him, smiling slightly when Barsad tries to trip him on the way out the door. 

 

They watch Talia playing in her room for a few minutes, then Bane goes downstairs to start dinner. Even with the terror that came with losing Talia, he counts it as a good day. Talia spoke, and he was able to make her smile. As was someone else, his mind points out. Bane flips the chicken and thinks on John Blake’s kind words and bright smile. His warm brown eyes and dimpled cheeks. Oh yes, Bane is very interested in knowing more about the newest citizen of their little island.


	3. Chapter 3

Barsad puts Talia to bed and joins Bane on the back porch where he’s wrapped in a thick wool blanket.

 

“The weather is changing,” Barsad states, sitting on the steps.

 

Bane shifts in his seat. “So my joints tell me.” His voice is pitched higher through the mask he wears, a transport for the drugs that soothe his ruined lungs.

 

“You should make use of the tub. It will please her.”

 

“I will, once she’s asleep. I don’t want the shoddy plumbing to keep her from sleep.”

 

Barsad glares at him over his shoulder. “I had very little time to work. There’s hot water, isn’t there?”

 

“Yes, and the pipes announce it in cannon fire when it arrives,” Bane teases, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders. His lungs relish the cool winter air, but the rest of his body protests the frigid snap of the ocean breeze coming over the bluff.

 

“I found this in her backpack.” Barsad hands him a crumpled piece of lined paper.

 

Bane frowns at the letter, Talia’s crooked letters scrawling across the page.

 

_ Dear Santa, _

 

_ For Christmas this year please send me a family.  _

_ Remember, I live in Gotham Harbour now.  _

 

_ Talia al Ghul _

  
  


“What more can we do?” Bane asks, frustrated and stricken. He’d thought they were doing well. That they were giving Talia enough to make her happy. He should have known it would never be enough.

 

“I don’t know,” Basad said quietly. “She needs more time, perhaps.”

 

Bane nods. They’d put out pictures of Nadia and made certain to speak of her often, to ensure Talia knew of the connection they shared, but it would never be the same as having her mother with her. Compared to Nadia, Bane and Barsad were feeble substitutes.

 

Bane worries, as he’s sure Barsad does, that they are doomed to follow in their father’s footsteps. Even if he can’t imagine either of them ever harming Talia, it’s ingrained in who they are. Violence is at the base of all that they know, and his fears are too real to brush aside.

 

“Do you think we should seek out partners? Perhaps she needs more people in her life,” Bane suggests, unsure if he will ever feel secure enough to make himself vulnerable to another the way a strong relationship surely requires.

 

“I think about that some days,” Barsad admits. “About growing old alone. Having someone to spend my days with might be nice. Someone to share a life with.”

 

“Do you think Talia needs a mother?” 

 

“Talia has a mother,” Barsad says sharply.

 

“But perhaps I should-”

 

Barsad’s laughter cuts him off. “If Talia is looking for a woman in her life, she’s on the wrong path in looking to you.”

 

“You find someone, then.” Bane grumbles. His sexuality isn’t a secret, exactly, but he doesn’t advertise it.

 

“Maybe I will.” 

 

“I shudder to think of the person that would be your match,” Bane admits, getting to his feet and shuffling to the door. He can hear the new bathtub calling to him.

 

“And I yours,” Barsad chuckles.


	4. Chapter 4

The following week, Bane takes Talia back to the toy store. She’s practically vibrating with excitement when he picks her up from school, and he allows her to run ahead of him once the store is in sight, though she makes sure to wait for him to catch up before she goes in.

 

John greets them warmly, dimpling at Talia when she waves. 

 

“Hello again,” John says, looking up at Bane.

 

“Mr. Blake.”

 

John smiles, colour rising to his cheeks. “John’s fine.”

 

“You may call me Bane.”

 

“Excellent.” 

 

Talia makes an impatient noise and drags John to the back of the store, where three new fairy houses are on display. Bane lets his eyes wander while John tells Talia how he made the houses. The first time they’d been in, Bane had still been coasting on adrenaline and hadn’t noticed the organized chaos of the store. At first look, it appears everything has been jumbled together wherever it happened to fit, but as he looks closer, he sees that each category bleeds into the next, creating a veritable rainbow of playthings. 

 

“So your uncle told me you don’t say much,” John is saying, his eyes flicking up to Bane’s to gauge his reaction. “I wanted you to know how grateful I am that you chose to speak to me, and that you helped me name Clover.”

 

Talia gives him a shy smile, fiddling with a champagne cork that’s been fashioned into a chair.

 

“Do you think it would be easier for you to express what you’re feeling if you were a fairy?”

 

Talia bites her lip and nods, opening the front of one of the houses.

 

“You know, when I was young, not much older than you, my dad died,” John pauses to register Talia’s response, and when the information doesn’t seem to upset her, he continues. “I spent a long time not wanting to talk to anyone. Only, it’s not really that you don’t want to, is it? It’s more like you just don’t know how. Like you forgot, and sometimes you remember how, but it’s hard to start doing something you haven’t done in a long time, right?”

 

Talia nods and Bane is captivated by the look of relief on her face, like she’s finally found someone who understands. He wants to turn away and give them privacy for this conversation that is obviously private and emotional, but he just can’t walk away. Talia needs to know he’s there for her, and the earnestness in John’s voice has him grounded to the spot.

 

“During that time, what I wanted more than anything was to be a superhero; someone who could save all the other kids like me from harm, and from loneliness. Because even where there are people around, it’s hard not to feel alone sometimes, isn’t it?”

 

Talia sniffs, and a tear slides over her cheek. Bane’s heart clenches, but John reaches out to wipe it away, tucking Talia’s hair behind her ear.

 

“I used to pretend to be that superhero and it made me feel a little better. Do you want to know what my superhero name was?” John asks, smiling.

 

Talia nods, biting her lip.

 

“Nightwing.”

 

Talia giggles, and John laughs along.

 

“I know, silly, right? But that’s what it was. I felt like if I was brave enough to be Nightwing, I could be brave enough to save myself and all the other kids from the pain I was in. Do you know how I did that?”

 

“No,” Talia whispers and Bane nearly gasps.

 

“I didn’t jump from rooftop to rooftop, even though I pretended I did. I played. I acted out my sadness and my anger with my action figures, and then those things didn’t feel like they were really happening to me. It was easier to solve my action figures’ problems, even though our problems were the same.”

 

Talia gives a wet sob, and John pulls her into his lap, rocking her and letting her cry. He gives Bane a reassuring smile, and presses his cheek to the top of Talia’s head.

 

“I miss my mommy,” Talia says in a small voice. “What if I forget her?”

 

John motions Bane closer, and he kneels beside them, brushing a hand over Talia’s head.

 

“Bane, can you tell Talia a story about her mother?”

 

Bane flounders for a minute under the weight of expectation. John’s hand on his arm is a surprise, but not an unpleasant one. 

 

“Just a short one is fine. What was she like as a little girl?” John asks, and Bane’s mind goes to the hundreds of stories he can’t bring himself to tell Talia. The ones where Nadia protected them, took punishment for them. He looks into John’s dark brown eyes, so warm and encouraging, and it comes to him.

 

“When she was ten, Nadia found a bird with a broken wing,” he starts, his voice tight with emotion. “A robin. She lined the box with rags and put the bird inside until she’d nursed it back to health and the wing healed. She was so nurturing, and so full of love, Talia. She cared for the bird for weeks, feeding it and hiding it from those who would harm it.”

 

“Like cats?” Talia asks.

 

“Yes, like cats,” Bane lies. “And when the bird was healed, she let it fly away.”

 

Talia looks up at him with wide, wet eyes. “Did she miss the bird?” 

 

“She did, but she knew when she found it that it was not hers to keep. Once the bird was healed, it did not belong with her any longer. She saw the beauty in letting the bird go, of seeing it returned to flight.”

 

Talia crawls into Bane’s lap, her this arms wrapping tight around his neck. “Thank you for the story.”

 

“You must always speak of your mother when you want to. Basad and I will be here to tell you anything you want to know, and to fill in the gaps in your knowledge should you forget something.”

 

Talia curls into his chest and John offers him a soft smile. Bane nods in thanks over Talia’s head, staring in wonder as the tips of John’s ears turn pink.


	5. Chapter 5

John parks his car in the long term parking lot and purchases a walk-on ticket. He’s running behind schedule, so by the time he actually sets foot on the boat the horn is sounding and they’re pulling away from the loading dock. It’s one of the last weekends before Christmas, and the ferry is packed with people braving the mainland for the gifts they couldn’t find on the islands.

 

John buys a coffee and walks the length of the ferry in search of a seat. He sees a familiar hulking body and shiny bald head hiding behind a newspaper in the back corner of the vessel. Bane shuffles the newspaper, and John looks up from studying the width of Bane’s thighs to find the man staring at him.

 

John can feel his face warm, but he gives a nod and a small wave and turns to leave.

 

“John Blake,” Bane’s strong voice calls out. 

 

John smiles and swallows his embarrassment. “Um, hi.”

 

“Do you require a seat?” Bane moves the bag off the bench across from him and motions for John to sit.

 

“Ah, yeah. Thanks. I don’t want to bother you, though.”

 

“It is no bother. Please, sit.” Bane doesn’t strike John as someone who smiles a whole lot, but his eyes are a warm grey-green, and before he knows it, John’s sliding in the seat.

 

“Don’t let me airplane you, okay? I don’t like open water, and when I get nervous I tend to ramble.” John laughs, dropping his messenger bag at his feet.

 

Bane’s eyes never waver from John’s face. “Airplane me?”

 

“Yeah, you know when you get stuck on a plane beside someone who doesn’t shut up the entire flight? That’s me on a boat.”

 

“How much can someone reveal on a short ferry ride?” Bane asks, a touch of amusement in his eyes.

 

“My whole life story,” John laughs. 

 

“I will stop you if I feel you’ve divulged too much,” Bane promises, setting the paper aside. “What takes you to the mainland?”

 

“Oh, I’m going to visit my cousin, Selina. Wild weekend of sweatpants and cheesy holiday movies.”

 

“Sounds thrilling,” Bane says, and John is almost certain the side of his mouth quirks up a little, stretching the scars that bisect his full lips.

“We know how to party.” John smiles into his coffee.

 

Bane watches him, silent and relaxed, but it feels intimate somehow, and John can’t help but squirm in his seat.

 

“How’s Talia?’ he asks, breaking the silence. “I have to confess that Alfred told me how she came to be with you.”

 

“I’m only surprised you didn’t already know.” 

 

“I try not to ask him too much. Occasionally we do have work to do.” John smiles, worried he’s offended Bane.

 

“He told you my sister died and left Talia’s guardianship to me?” Bane guesses.

 

“And that you live out by the Narrows with your brother. Barsad, right? The contractor?”

 

“Mr. Pennyworth always seems to have the best gossip, I’m sure he told you more than that.” Bane says, his voice hardening.

 

John swallows. “He tried,” he admits. “But I suggested that any more than that wasn’t his to tell.”

 

Bane looks surprised for half a second before his face smooths back into indifference. “And why did you move to Gotham Harbour to open a toy store, John Blake?”

 

“Well, I used to work at an orphanage; the one I was raised in, actually. But I found I needed a change. I still wanted to be around kids, and I thought about going back to school to take some SET courses or something, but I needed out of the city.”

 

“SET?” Bane asks.

 

“Special Education Training. For kids with behavioral issues, specifically. I was a bit of a difficult case growing up, and I think I could help some kids cope, you know. Give back a little. That’s basically what I did at the orphanage.”

 

Bane nods. “That is admirable, John. May I ask why you were raised in an orphanage? Only, you mentioned your cousin, so I presume you weren’t without family.”

 

“My mom was a runaway,” John explains, no longer ashamed by the absence of his parents. “She got pregnant and pretty much left me on my dad’s doorstep. He and my grandma raised me until she died. My dad was shot during a mugging when I was seven. Just old enough to remember him and feel horribly betrayed at being left alone.” John gives Bane a small, sad smile.

 

“Anyway, Selina, my cousin, is my mother’s brother’s child. They didn’t know I existed until I turned eighteen and went in search of them. She helped me deal with a lot of my issues, and we’re really close now.”

 

“She sounds nurturing.”

 

John laughs and almost spits out his sip of coffee. “Let’s just say she’s a force of nature. Selina doesn’t give you a lot of chances to straighten up and fly right.”

 

“Tough love,” Bane says with disdain.

 

“Something like that. But she’s amazing, really. When my- well, when I decided to leave the city, she was very supportive. She even helped me secure the loan for the store.”

 

“Why did you leave?”

 

John looks away. “I thought you were going to tell me when I talked too much?”

 

“I wish to know you, John.” Bane says simply, and it shouldn’t make the hairs on the back of John’s neck stand up, but it does.

 

“What about you? What do you do?” John prompts.

 

“I own a roasting company. Trial by Fire. We do all our roasting on the island, but we distribute throughout the state. I am on my way to meetings with my investors to make plans for national sales.”

 

John laughs in shock. “Are you serious? Your Born into Darkness blend is my favourite! I had no idea it was made in Gotham Harbour.” 

 

“You obviously haven’t taken the time to read the packaging,” Bane tells him.

 

“No, I get distracted by the coffee once the package is open, it’s that good!”

 

“Thank you.” Bane nods.

 

“I love coffee. Probably too much,” John confesses. “That explains why you smell so good.”

 

John freezes, horrified at the words that just came out of his mouth. Bane looks pleased, though, so he just takes another gulp of lukewarm, subpar coffee and pretends he didn’t just embarrass himself.

 

“So, why coffee?” he asks once he’s swallowed.

 

“Coffee is full of antioxidants and phytochemicals. It reduces your risk of certain types of cancer. Did you know that the word ‘coffee’ comes from an Arabic phrase that translates to ‘wine of the bean’?” Bane reels off, and it’s more more words than John’s ever heard him say in one go, but it sounds like a spiel. 

 

“I bet it says that on the packaging, doesn’t it? John teases. “I don’t need the company line, I asked why  _ you _ chose coffee to work with.”

 

Bane’s eyes narrow, but whatever he sees on John’s face must convince him John’s being sincere because he huffs out a small laugh. “Very well, I enjoy ritual. Coffee is a ritual. The roasting, the preparation, it’s all a common practice you can take with you anywhere you go, and it will feel like home.”

 

“The orphan in me approves of that answer.” John grins, enjoying the odd cadence of Bane’s voice and the warmth in his eyes.

 

“Coffee brings people together. Friends, enemies, families, lovers. It’s a commonality that draws us to others. Binds us.”

 

“Do you often draw in lovers with coffee?” 

 

Bane stares at him blankly. “I have no interest in lovers.”

 

John looks away, embarrassed and cursing himself for being so forward. He doesn’t mean to flirt, sometimes it just comes out, and he can’t deny that Bane has caught his attention more than once. But he has no idea if Bane’s interests veer that way, and now he’s made him uncomfortable, judging by the way Bane’s gaze is roaming around the seating area in search of a distraction.

 

“You never did tell me how Talia is doing,” John reminds him, breaking the awful silence.

 

Bane’s shoulders relax at the mention of a more neutral topic. “She is well. Her speech continues to return slowly.”

 

“That’s really great.” John smiles, and his heart warms with news of the little girl’s progress.

 

“I never thanked you for helping her,” Bane tells him seriously.

 

“Oh, it’s no problem. I was happy to help.” John waves him off.

 

“She was a stranger to you. Someone you did not have cause to reach out to, and yet you did, without hesitation.”

 

“Honestly, I do have cause. I love kids. Watching them play, and grow, and learn feeds my soul in a way nothing else does.”

 

“Even coffee?” Bane raises an eyebrow.

 

John laughs, the rest of the tension between them fading. “Even coffee. But seriously, I’m glad I could help. Bring her in anytime. Maybe she’d like to help me with the toy drive we’re running for Christmas.”

 

Bane frowns at that and John worries he’s taken another misstep.

 

“Christmas,” he says as though he’s weighing the word on his tongue. “I have not considered what Talia’s expectations are for the holiday.”

 

“Do you not usually celebrate it?”

 

“No. Not that I remember.” Bane’s frown deepens, and he looks away.

 

“Talia might be expecting to. The best way is just to ask, I suppose,” John leans forward to rest his hand on Bane’s arm. “I’d be happy to help you prepare for it if you want. After the way I grew up I’ve had to make my own traditions, and it’s not as daunting as it seems, trust me.”

 

Bane stares at John’s hand. “Thank you, John.”

 

John sits back, lacing his fingers around his empty coffee cup. Somehow the ferry is already docking and John hasn’t worried about the vast ocean surrounding them at all.

 

“May I deliver you to your cousin’s house?” Bane asks, his eyes intent on John once again.

 

“Thanks, but she’s picking me up. She likes to hear my screams of horror when she takes sharp corners too fast on her motorbike.”

 

Bane’s eyes crinkle, watching John closely as he stands. “I will see you upon your return, then.”

  
“Yeah, you will. Good luck with your meetings.” John tells him. He feels like he should offer his hand for a shake, but it seems weirdly formal after the conversation they just had, so he just smiles and give Bane another little wave before making his way to the front of the boat. He doesn’t turn around to look, but he’s pretty sure Bane’s eyes follow him until he’s out of sight. 


	6. Chapter 6

Selina’s laughing at him by the time she pulls up to the restaurant.

 

“It’s not funny,” John tells her, ripping the helmet off his head.

 

“You scream like a little girl,” Selina says, delighted.

 

“I do not.” John tries to tame his hair, which is sticking out in disarray from the helmet.

 

“You’re right, you sound more like one of those shrieking goats.”

 

“I hate you,” he grumbles, following her through the door of the bistro.

 

“No, you don’t.” 

 

“I should, you’re rude, and crass, and clearly dangerous.” John nods in thanks to the waiter and collapses in his chair.

 

“Are you insulting me or complimenting me? I can’t tell.” Selina flicks her long, dark hair over her shoulder and give him a thousand-watt smile.

 

“You’re a menace,” John says, but he can’t keep the smile off his own face.

 

“Aww, you missed me!”

 

“I did, how are you?” John picks up the menu.

 

Selina waves her hand in dismissal. “I’m fine, I want to hear about life on the Islands.”

 

“I only live on one of them, you know,” John teases.

 

“You know my bike goes faster, right?” she threatens.

 

“You want a play-by-play of my boring island life? Because I spend ninety percent of my time at the store.”

 

“Ah, yes, how is my little investment?” 

 

John shakes his head. When he told Bane Selina helped him get his loan, he wasn’t lying. He just didn’t mention that Selina was the source of the loan. She’d invested her own money, money she’d made with her own business, and taken a chance on John’s dream.

 

“It’s doing really well, actually. We opened at the right time and the ramp up to Christmas has been going well. I almost cancelled this weekend because I was worried about Alfred managing without me.”

 

“But then you realized he’s an adult who is more than capable of running a small toy store for two days?” Selina asks.

 

“No, then he threatened to set me up if I didn’t take some time away,” John admits. “He’d do it, too.”

 

“Speaking of setting you up,” Selina grins.

 

“No.” John raises the menu in front of his face.

 

“Come on, John, just meet him.” Selina grabs the menu out of his hands.

 

“Selina,” John rubs his forehead. “I’m not ready. I may never be ready.”

 

“It’s just drinks tonight. An hour, tops.”

 

John crosses his arms and looks away. “I can’t.”

 

“John,” she wheedles. “You can’t tell me you’re not lonely on that little island of yours.”

 

John thinks about Bane and his own failed flirting on the ferry, and he can feel his ears turning pink.

 

“Wait, have you met someone?” Selina leans closer.

 

“I’m having dinner with Jonathan tonight.” John blurts. His intention had been to distract Selina from asking more about the men he’s met on the island, but he hadn’t meant to admit he was seeing his ex-fiancée later that day.

 

“You’re what?” Selina’s voice is loud and hard.

 

“It’s not like that,” John holds up his hand to silence her. “It’s not. He still has some of my things, and he asked if we could meet for dinner so he could give them to me.”

 

“He wants to give it to you, alright,” Selina scoffs. “Do I seriously need to explain to you why this is a colossally bad idea, John?”

 

“Selina, nothing is going to happen!” John insists.

 

“One. He is a selfish, elitist bastard who places his work above everything else. Two. He has a small dick.”

 

“It’s not small,” John says with a shrug.

 

“John,” Selina says, fighting a laugh.

 

“If you’re going to insult someone, at least be accurate, that’s all I’m saying.”

 

“Okay, you size queen. Three. He left you at the altar.”

 

John winces.

 

“He was so wrapped up in himself that he forgot he was supposed to be getting married. He forgot about you, John. On your fucking wedding day.”

 

“I know, I was there,” John snaps. 

 

“Do you think he’s changed that much in six months?”

 

“Probably not, which is why I’m just going to get my stuff and leave,” John promises.

 

The waiter returns and they order.

 

“Where are you meeting him? I’ll drop you off.” Selina says breezily.

 

John laughs. “Not a chance. I’m not bailing you out when you punch him.”

 

“He needs to be punched. By you, ideally, but I’ll happily do it for you.”

 

“I know, and thank you. But I’m a big boy now, and I can deal with the likes of Jonathan Crane.”

 

“ _ Doctor _ Jonathan Crane,” Selina corrects in a near perfect impression of Crane’s voice, just to make John laugh.

 

A few hours later, John catches a cab outside Selina’s house and directs the drive to a restaurant downtown. It’s not lost on him that Crane‘s chosen John’s favourite place to meet. The last time they’d been there had been the night Crane proposed, but that memory is tainted, and John thinks the whole place is ruined for him now.

 

Crane is already seated when John arrives, thought he stands and hugs John tightly in greeting.

 

“You look good,” Crane tells him, eyes bright and smile devastatingly sharp.

 

“Thank you. You look like you’ve finally managed to pull yourself away from the office,” John says, wincing. “Tanned. I meant that you look tanned.”

 

Crane smiles tightly. “I just returned from a conference in Hawaii, actually. You would have loved it.”

 

John’s hands clench in his lap. Hawaii had been their honeymoon destination. A place John had always dreamed of going; a place that felt attainable one day, and Crane had promised to make that dream come true. 

 

“That sounds nice,” he says, eyes intent on the menu. Cool, confident, calm. He can do this.

 

“How are things with you?” Crane asks, leaning forward and making eye contact. 

 

It throws John a little because even when they’d been dating, Crane wasn’t one for direct attention. John had always had to beg and scrape for every minute alone with the man.

 

“Um, good. I’m good. Busy.”

 

“The Bird’s Nest, right? I looked it up online. It’s really lovely, John. Very you.” Crane smiles, and it sets John on edge.

 

“Right. So, how’s work?” 

 

“Oh, I don’t want to talk about work, I want to talk about you,” Crane says.

 

John stares at him, feeling like he’s missed something. Never in the two years they were together did Crane pass up an opportunity to discuss his work. Crane has his PhD in psychology and psychiatry, with most of his research done in treating phobias. On the day they were supposed to be married, Crane had a breakthrough in a drug he’d designed to override the brain’s reaction to fear. He’d been so riveted by his findings that everything else had slipped his mind. Including John.

 

“Cut the crap, Jonathan,” John says sharply. “What’s this about.”

 

Crane looks surprised at John’s outburst, but he rallies, bringing back the smile that had first caught John’s attention all those years ago.

 

“I want you to come home.”

 

John frowns. “I go back on Sunday, what are you-”

 

“To me, John. I want you to come back to me.” 

 

John stares at him. Crane is handsome, and wealthy, and charismatic when he wants to be, and had he begged John six months ago to give him another chance, John would have had a hard time saying no. But he’s different now. He’s built a life for himself, on his own, and he’s enjoying independence in a way he never has before. When he aged out of foster care, even after he found Selina, being alone had meant being lonely, but now John knows there’s freedom in being alone. And he likes it.

 

“Are you serious?” he asks, because he really can’t believe Crane is asking him this.

 

“Yes, and I know I hurt you, but I’ve worked really hard to change, John. I’m committed to making this work.”

 

“See, most people are committed to make it work before they propose. Or, you know, at least on their wedding day.”

 

Crane’s smile falters. “You know how hard I worked-” Crane pauses to collect himself. “No, you’re right. What I did was inexcusable, and I will never be able to make that up to you. I understand that. But now I can offer you more of me. The drugs is set for production and I have more time to devote to being with you.”

 

“Until the next breakthrough, right? What happens then your work takes over again? I’ll tell you, because I’ve seen it firsthand. You disappear, Jonathan. You fuck off to the lab and I’m left with all the commitments we made, making excuses for you, and trying to keep a smile on my face while inside I’m crushed at being tossed aside. Can you promise me that won’t happen? Can you?” John is struggling to keep quiet, but judging by the looks from the people at the next table, he’s failing.

 

“John, I know I hurt you.”

 

“I don’t think you do, actually. I don’t think you have any idea how it felt for me to stand there waiting for you to show up. As all our friends and family watched me realize you weren’t coming. You have no idea what that did to me. I’m a fucking orphan, Jonathan, and you’re just another person who left me. You know, for someone who specializes in human behavior, you have no clue on what being human actually entails.”

 

Crane takes a deep breath, glancing around them in embarrassment.  _ It’s a good look on him _ , John thinks meanly.

 

“What do I have to do to convince you I’ve changed? How many times do I have to apologize, John?” Crane leans across the table, anger flashing in his eyes.

 

“Once would be nice,” John quips.

 

“What?”

 

“You’ve never actually apologized. Not once.”

 

“That’s ridiculous, of course I have,” Crane argues.

 

“Nope. You’ve admitted fault, but you’ve never apologized. Most people do that first, in case you were wondering.”

 

Crane’s nostrils flare, his knuckles going white where he’s gripping the sides of the table. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Good to know,” John says, staring back at him. “Did you actually have anything of mine, or what that a ruse to get me here?”

 

“I knew you wouldn’t come without a good reason. Will you please give me another chance?” Crane asks, eyes softening.

 

“Never,” John tells him. “It was good to see you, Jonathan. Goodbye.” John pushes back from the table and walks out of the restaurant feeling like he’s just shed a layer of dead skin. Lighter, and refreshed, and ready to get on with his life.


	7. Chapter 7

Bane arrives early to the ferry terminal, having wrapped up his meetings in the city in a satisfying manner. They have distributors lined up throughout forty-seven of the fifty states, and his coffee will be in stores across the country by March.

 

Bane parks his truck in the loading line and heads for the terminal. He’d skipped breakfast to catch the early boat, and his hunger is tired of being ignored. He’s strolling toward the small sandwich shop when he spies a familiar face in the reflection of the vending machine. 

 

John Blake is biting his lip and frowning at the selection in front of him, an adorable crease between his brows. Bane’s struck with a wave of affection, and before he can examine it too closely, he’s stepping up behind John.

 

“You don’t want any of those.”

 

John startles and turns, bumping into Bane’s chest. Bane knows he should take a step back, give the man some space, but John’s hair is still wet from his shower and the smell of soap and fresh skin is intoxicating.

 

“Why not?” John asks once he’s recovered his shock.

 

“None of them have expiration dates.” 

 

John glances over his shoulder at the contents of the machine. “Really? That’s disturbing.”

 

“There’s a restaurant up the road that serves my coffee. Care to join me for a meal?” Bane’s heart is beating a mile a minute, but John is smiling up at him, and it’s all he can do not to lean closer.

 

“I think we’ve got time for that, thanks.” John steps back, nearly colliding with the vending machine. “Lead that way.”

 

It begins to drizzle on the walk to the restaurant, and John pulls his hood over his head, hiding his face from Bane. Bane turns up the collar of his shearling coat against the cold. 

 

“It’s like breathing in clouds,” John comments, waving his hand through the thick fog.

 

“It can be difficult,” Bane agrees, his voice gone raspy in the humidity. 

 

“Once, when I was a kid, I asked for a bowl of clouds for dessert and my foster mother at the time gave me a bowl of whipped cream to eat. It was wonderful.” John laughs at the memory.

 

“Did you know at the time it was whipped cream?” Bane asks, turning his head to catch a glimpse of John’s smile.

 

“I did, but it didn’t matter. It was the idea of eating a cloud that was so thrilling. A child’s imagination is a wonderful thing.”

 

“I often cannot decide where to draw the line between imagination and reality with Talia. She’s learning in school about dinosaurs, and at the same time, about the myth of Santa Claus. I do not wish for her to encounter more disappointment in her life.” 

 

“You can’t save her all disappointment,” John tells him gently. “She needs to learn how to deal with it, and I know losing a parent is a big disappointment to deal with, but the smaller ones are important, too. If someone had told me it wasn’t clouds in that bowl, I would have been crushed. Kids need to believe in things.”

 

“There are plenty of real things she can believe in. Real people,” Bane argues.

 

“In my experience, imaginary people are more reliable than the real ones. They’re kind of frozen in time and unchangeable. That’s reassuring for a kid. Even when she grows up and finds out Santa isn’t real, she’ll still have the memories and the joy that believing in him brought her. She’ll still have the magic.”

 

“I’ve never believed in Santa,” Bane tells him.

 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but that’s not shocking. I think you could probably use a little more magic in your life.” John gives him a soft smile, blinking against the rain.

 

“And are you magic, John Blake?” Bane asks, voice low.

 

John’s face flushes attractively. “Maybe.”

 

Bane hums, feeling his own face warm.

 

“Has Talia asked about Santa yet?” John asks, drawing is face back into his hood.

 

“Thankfully, no, because we are not prepared to answer that.” Bane opens the door to the restaurant and gestures for John to go in first. They find a table near the back wall, overlooking the whitecaps beating against the shore.

 

“It’s okay to tell Talia that you don’t know if you believe in Santa,” John continues once they’re seated. “You can tell her that a lot of people do believe in him, and it’s okay if she wants to. Kids who are encouraged and allowed to use their imaginations are actually better at drawing the line between fantasy and reality that those who aren’t.”

 

Bane thinks back to when he was a child. Locked in the basement, listening hard to the sounds over his head, knowing it was just his father up there, but not quite able to convince himself it wasn’t a hoard of monsters, come to finish them off. He’d had a hard time then, distinguishing between his own thoughts and the ones his father planted to punish him.

 

John’s looking at him like he’s worried he’s crossed a line, so Bane gives him a small smile.

 

“How do you know so much about children?”

 

“Well, I used to be one,” John grins, stunning Bane with the depth of his dimples.

 

“I don’t know that I was ever allowed to be a child,” Bane says, carefully. “But I’m trying to avoid ruining what remains of Talia’s time as one.”

 

John’s hand pressed onto Bane’s arm, warm and steady. 

 

“You sound like you’re doing just fine. You’re worrying about all the right things, if that makes you feel any better.”

 

The waitress interrupts them to take their orders, and John removes his hand, leaving Bane’s arm tingling.

 

“How was your weekend?” Bane asks once the waitress departs, not wanting them to lapse into silence.

 

“Complicated,” John says. “But it settled some things, so good, I guess.”

 

Bane knows it’s none of his business, but he can’t help but ask John to elaborate. He tells himself he’s vetting John to be someone of importance in Talia’s life, but he can’t help but hope to have more of John in his own as well.

 

“Ah, I saw my ex. He, um, he left me at the altar six months ago,” John takes a sip of his water, his tongue catching a stray drop of water as it threatens to fall from his bottom lip. “Well, it wasn’t really an altar, more of an arch, but ‘he left me at the arch’ sounds odd.”

 

“You’re rambling,” Bane informs him, amused by John’s blustering.

 

“Right, sorry,” John grins. “Anyway, he wants me to give him another chance.”

 

A stab of jealousy goes through Bane, and it’s such an unexpected feeling, he has trouble naming it at first.

 

“And will you?” he asks, frowning at how strained his voice sounds.

 

“I wasn’t even tempted,” John smiles shyly. “Not even a little bit. He’s still the same person, I could see it. Under all his promises and his claims to have changed, he hasn’t, because deep down he doesn’t think he’s at fault for me leaving. Anyway, I’ve changed, and that’s what’s important. I want different things now.”

 

“What is it that you want, John Blake?” Bane asks, leaning forward.

 

John’s eyes are warm, but intent. “A partner. I don’t want someone to take care of me, I want us to work together to make it work. It can’t be one sided, I know that now. I want someone who wants the same thing.”

 

“Children?”

 

“Maybe. Probably, someday. Or not, being on my own is kinda nice, too.” John laughs. “Did you see yourself with kids before Talia?”

 

Bane sobers, looking down. “No, I thought it was best not to entertain thoughts of being with anyone because of how we were raised. My childhood was... traumatic.”

 

“But you took Talia in with no questions and you obviously love her. I don’t think you’re as bad as you think you are, Bane.” 

 

John’s hand is back on his arm, and Bane closes his eyes for a brief moment, enjoying it. “It is difficult to have someone else to worry about, but at the same time, I relish it.”

 

John’s grin is incandescent and Bane realizes he want to taste it. 

 

“You sound like someone’s parent,” John teases, pulling away so the waitress can deliver their plates. 

 

The make small talk about the town and John’s store, and before Bane is ready, they’re back on the ferry and it’s docking at Gotham Harbour. John again declines Bane’s offer of a ride, explaining that his car is waiting in the paid lot, and Bane watches him disappear into the walk-on traffic before he reluctantly goes out to his truck, his arm still tingling from the touch of John’s hand.


	8. Chapter 8

Alfred asks John about his weekend in a disinterested tone John doesn’t trust at all.

 

“Why?” John asks, narrowing his eyes.

 

“I can’t ask about your life?” 

 

“Not without an ulterior motive,” John says.

 

“I’m an old man, John, I long for the days of my youth and wish to live vicariously through yours.”

 

John snorts. “You think I don’t know you swim in that frozen death pond out there every morning? Or about the trip you took to Monte Carlo last year?”

 

Alfred looks away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“I’m not as naive as I look, Alfred. And you’re not the only one in town who likes to gossip. Now, what information are you after?”

 

Alfred rolls his eyes. “Word is, you went off for a romantic weekend, and there’s no shame in that, John, you work very hard; no one can blame you for needing time away.”

 

“And just who am I supposed to have run away with?”

 

“Bane al Ghul. Sherry Mumford saw you on the ferry Friday afternoon, and Gordon Whitshaw saw the two on you coming back Sunday morning. Tongues are wagging, John.”

 

“And you wanted in on the ground floor.” John shakes his head.

 

“I just wanted to set the record straight, in case it wasn’t true,” Alfred says, hand to his heart.

 

“Well, it’s not. It was pure coincidence that Bane and I were on the same sailings, not some wild weekend of romance. Besides, if it was, we’d be rushing to make the last Sunday ferry, not an hour and a half early for the first, if you know what I mean.”

 

“And is that something that is likely to happen in the future? You and Bane, I mean?”

 

John rubs the back of his neck. “Look, can you please tell people there’s nothing there? Bane has enough to deal with without people talking behind his back.”

 

“The things this town says behind his back rarely have to do with his love life, John. You know, his father-”

 

“Nope! No, do not tell me anything!” John presses his hands over his ears. “I do not want to know that story through second-hand sources, okay? If Bane wants to tell me, he will. In his own time.”

 

Alfred gives him an appraising look, then smiles. “You like him.”

 

“He’s a very nice man, with a very full plate. I respect his commitment to Talia, that’s all. I don’t want him upset over gossip.”

 

“I’ll spread the word,” Alfred promises. “You know, if you ask me, Bane could use a little more of you in his life.”

 

“Sandwiches! I’m going to buy us sandwiches. Okay? Great! I’ll be back.” 

 

John grabs his jacket and hurries out the door before Alfred can go on about just how Bane could benefit from John. He may be in his seventies, but Alfred is shameless. 

 

John orders their sandwiches from the deli in the public market and sits at a small table to wait. He scrolls through the twenty or so texts Selina sent him this morning, describing in detail how perfect her new client’s ass is, laughing at her frankly impressive array of adjectives.

 

The girl who took his order delivers his to-go bag, along with a folded napkin. John frowns at her, but she just smiles and walks away. He opens the napkin to find ‘hello’ written in crooked letters across the thin paper. 

 

John looks around the deli, eyes drawn to a small giggle from the corner. Bane and Talia are sitting in a booth, staring at him. Talia whispers something to Bane, who nods, and then Talia is bounding across the room and throwing her arms tightly around John’s neck.

 

“Hi,” she whispers.

 

“Hi yourself, how are you?” John grins at her, looking up at Bane when he comes over.

 

“I lost a tooth,” Talia tells him quiet, but excited. She bares her teeth where there is indeed a pulpy space on the bottom. “I got ten dollars!”

 

John’s eyebrows go up. “Wow, the tooth fairy must be doing well these days.”

 

“The tooth fairy was unprepared and it was all he had,” Bane tells him.

 

John laughs. “Tell the tooth fairy he’s set the standard with that.”

 

“Barsad said it was a perfect tooth, and therefore well worth the price,” Talis says, clearly repeating what she heard her uncle say.

“I’m sure he’s right.” John tucks a strand of hair behind Talia’s ear.

 

“We’re going to your store now. To check on Clover,” Talia confides in a serious tone.

 

“Allow me to escort you, fine lady.” John stands and offers Talia his arm. He smiles at Bane, who collects John’s order.

 

Talia points out random things on the walk to the store, and John can hardly believe she’s the same girl who stood in front of him, so reserved and withdrawn, just last week. It’s amazing what feeling like someone’s listening can do. Bane;s walking behind them, and John can feel the weight of his gaze as he watches them. It occurs to him that their little promenade won’t help settle the rumours about the two of them.

 

Alfred smirks at John when they reach the store. John rolls his eyes and takes Clover’s house down for Talia to see. She shoos him away while she rearranges the furniture again, and he returns to the counter, where Bane is standing.

 

“Alfred took his break,” Bane tells him, pushing a slim thermos across the counter.

 

“What’s this?” 

 

“Fresh roasting of a new blend. I thought you might give me your thoughts,” Bane says, eyes soft.

 

“I’d love to, thanks. What’s it called?” John unscrews the lid of the thermos, groaning at the heavenly smell wafting from the neck of the container.

 

“The Fire Rises,” Bane tells him, voice rough.

 

John meets his gaze, a thrill going through him at the heat he sees there. Maybe his flirting wasn’t as off-base as the thought it was.

 

“Bane!” Talia runs up, tugging Bane by the hand. “There’s a party room, come see.”

 

John looks away, going in search of the mug he keeps behind the counter.

 

He pours a healthy amount of coffee and wanders to the back of the store where the hidden party room is. He has a hard time holding back his laugh when he’s greeted to the sight of Bane’s giant form seated uncomfortably on one of the tiny wooden chairs, having an imaginary tea party with Talia. John smiles into his cup and leaves them to it.

 

The coffee is incredible, and he makes sure to jot down a few notes on his first few sips before pulling out the step stool and working through the shipment that was delivered that morning. It’s nearly Christmas, and it’s all he can do to keep the shelves stocked. 

 

He’s stacking boxes of junior chemistry sets in a high cupboard when he leans a little too far to the left and the stool wobbles. He has just enough time to feel himself falling before large, strong hands circle his waist, saving him from the floor.

 

John rests his hands over Bane’s to steady himself, panting from the fright.

 

“Shall I help?” Bane asks, and John turns to him, twisting in his grip.

 

“No, I got it, thanks. Just need to be a little more careful.”

 

Bane is still holding him, and his hands are warm and firm, making John feel grounded in a way he didn’t know he needed. Bane’s a head taller than him, but he’s leaning down, eyes searching John’s face for god knows what. His eyes come to rest on John’s mouth and he licks his lips reflexively, Bane’s gaze following the movement. 

 

The bell over the door chimes and John steps back, Bane’s hands dropping away.

 

“Um, thanks for that. And for the coffee, it’s excellent. I, ah, I wrote down some things,” John moves to front of the store, saying hello to the woman who just came in. “Here.”

 

Bane takes the notes, reading them before folding the paper carefully and tucking it into his pocket.

 

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “May I bring you more?”

 

John grins, really liking the way Bane’s eyes keep flicking back to his mouth. “I’d like that.”

 

Bane nods and goes to collect Talia while John sees to his customer. Talia gives him a big hug when they leave, and Alfred slides casually over to him once they’re gone.

 

“You know, the al Ghul’s aren’t known to celebrate Christmas. You should offer to take Talia to the Santa Claus Parade. Maybe Bane will go along.”

 

John bites back a smile. “I’m three steps ahead of you.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bane in a bathtub. What more could you want for Christmas?

Bane relaxes further into the water, sinking down until the mask is just above the steaming surface of the bath. Barsad and Talia have gone into town for a movie at the children’s museum, and he’s been blessed with a quiet evening alone. It isn’t that Talia is loud, but he’s not used to interacting this much with people. He and Barsad have perfected the art of silent communication over the years, and the people in town don’t often stop him on the street to talk. Well, they didn’t before Talia joined them. Now she stops  _ them _ . Her memory is excellent and she makes sure to ask after their families and grandchildren, endearing her to half the town. 

 

Bane’s pleased she’s fitting in, he just never realized how much energy it takes to maintain such connections. The one person Bane doesn’t mind expending the energy on is John Blake. He tells himself it’s for Talia’s sake, since she’s quite taken with the man, but it’s harder to lie to himself when he’s alone and the physical proof of his attraction is impossible to ignore. 

 

He takes himself in hand, closing his eyes to shut everything else out, and thinks about the soft curve of Blake’s smile. The strong jaw and long neck Bane wants to map with his scarred mouth. John didn’t look twice at the damage on Bane’s face, and he’s confident the marks on his body wouldn’t faze him either. It’s not the first time he’s been interested in another man, but he’s never felt so confident that his interest would be returned. He’s seen the way Blake looks at him, has noticed the spike in his pulse when Bane touches him, and measured the breaths that turn quick and light when Bane favours him with a smile. He feels powerful with how he makes John respond to him, and he wants nothing more than to test that power. 

 

He flexes his hand, imagining it’s John’s stroking him firmly. John’s hands are long and slim, and he may need to use both to keep Bane’s cock in check, spreading precome over the shaft with a swipe over the head, milking Bane until his balls pull tight and the soles of his feet start to tingle. 

 

He groans as he imagines John’s lips drawing him in, tongue soft and throat tight as he swallows him down again and again until Bane’s thrusting faster and harder, fucking Blake’s mouth as gently as he able until he’s coming, holding himself inside until Blake’s swallowed every drop and licked him clean.

 

Bane’s hips arch out of the water as he comes, John’s name breathy and high through the mask, spunk coating his hand as his chest heaves. He pulls the drain and hoists himself out of the tub, muscles complaining about his short time in the water. He hadn’t meant to let his thoughts wander, but it happens more now that he has someone so lovely to think about.

 

A knock at the front door startles him, causing him to slip on a wet patch on the floor. No one comes out to see them, and his first thought is that something’s happened to Talia and Barsad. He wraps a towel around his waist and thunders down the stairs, throwing open the door to find a very startled John Blake on his door step.

 

John recovers quickly, his gaze going from Bane’s face to a droplet of water trailing down his chest.

 

“Um, hi.” John gives him a shaky smile.

 

“What’s happened?” Bane asks, realizing he’s still wearing his mask. His eyes go wide and he ducks back into the house, fumbling with the straps around his head. 

 

John steps into the house, watching unabashed as Bane peels the mask off his face and lays it on the couch.

 

“What is that?” John asks, looking at the metal contraption.

 

“Has something happened?” Bane ignores him, still worried.

 

“Uh, not that I know of.” John scrunches up his nose.

 

“Then why are you here?”

 

“Oh, I wanted to return your thermos.” John holds up the slim canister with a smile.

 

Bane sighs, apprehension bleeding out of him.

 

“Um, am I interrupting something?” John’s gaze trails over Bane’s naked skin appreciatively.

 

For a moment, Bane thinks about shedding the towel and pressing John into the wall, but before he can tempt himself further, he excuses himself and runs back upstairs to get dressed.

 

When he returns, John is studying Barsad’s work on the fireplace.

 

“Better get this finished before Santa comes.” He grins. “A tree is going to look perfect in here.”

 

“A tree,” Bane repeats.

 

“Yeah, a Christmas tree. Talia was talking about it when she stopped in, has she not said anything to you?”

 

“She has not.” Bane frowns.

 

“Hey, don’t worry about it, you’ve got lots of time. Why don’t you bring Talia by after school tomorrow, and I can help you get some stuff?” John smiles up at him, eager and open.

 

“I believe Talia will enjoy that.”

 

John’s smile slips a little. “Right, great. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

 

“Tomorrow,” Bane agrees.

 

John nods and turns to go. 

 

“John,” Bane steps forward when John turns back. “Perhaps you will allow me to buy you dinner in thanks, as well.”

 

John’s grin returns, his cheeks flushing attractively. “That sounds good. And thanks again for the coffee.”

 

Bane watches him climb back in his car, standing on the porch until John’s car is out of sight.


	10. Chapter 10

There’s another thermos of coffee waiting for him when he opens the store the next morning. It’s sitting in front of the door, with a note from Bane, telling John it’s more of the new blend. It’s a testament to how tight their community is that the thermos is there at all. On the mainland, it would have been stolen minutes after Bane left it behind.

 

John pours it into his mug, savouring the rich flavour of the coffee. It reminds him of Bane; earthy and complex, with dark, clean undertones. He’s still lingering over his mug when Alfred comes in an hour later. The older man raises an eyebrow at him and shakes his head with a smile.

 

At three, Talia sweeps into the store, heading straight for John with a hug and a painting she made of Clover. John thanks her and hangs it behind the counter where her tells her Clover is sure to spot it. He says goodbye to Alfred and gathers his things, taking Talia’s hand when she offers it, and walking further into town with Bane following close behind.

 

They spend some time picking out lights at the hardware store while they wait for the night market to open. Talia insists they need a giant, inflatable snowman for the front yard, and John’s just opening his mouth to argue when Bane pulls the box off the shelf and loads it into the cart.

 

“Seriously?” John asks him under his breath.

 

“I’ll learn to deny her next year,” Bane answers, just as quietly.

 

John smiles and shakes his head, following them up to the tills. Bane takes their loot to the truck while John and Talia start making the rounds of the now open market so she can pick out ornaments for the tree and decorations for the house. Bane finds them as Talia is starting to worry about what colour stockings her uncles will like. Bane selects a red one for Barsad and a green one for himself. Talia chooses a Christmas plaid, and adds a plain blue one to her pile.

 

“Who’s that for?” John asks.

 

“For you, silly,” Talia chides and hands her money to the man at the booth.

 

John raises his eyebrows at Bane, who looks away and pretends he didn’t hear the answer. Talia is drooping by dinnertime and they stop in at the diner for hot bowls of soup and thick, buttery bread. Talia perks up with the delivery of the food, and starts outlining what the Christmas tree has to have to be considered perfect.

 

Barsad meets them outside the restaurant, whispering something in Talia’s ear that makes Bane frown. John looks from Bane to Basad and the private conversation they seem to be having with their eyes.

 

“Talia, I have an errand to run,” Barsad explains. “It’s time sensitive.”

 

“Oh, we were just going to pick out a tree.” John says.

 

“You and Bane do it. I have to go now, goodbye!” Talia says, tugging on Barsad’s arm.

 

“I found a few good candidates towards the back of the property, you should cut one of those.” Barsad tells Bane seriously.

 

“We were just going to go to the Mitchell’s tree lot.” John points over his shoulder, in the direction of the selection of pre-cut trees.

 

“Oh! I want one from our backyard!” Talia exclaims. “Please, Bane, please? That way it’s really ours.”

 

John sees Bane’s shoulders slump and he nods, passing his hand over Talia’s hair. “Very well.”

 

“Thank you!” Talia hugs him around the waist, her short arms not even close to reaching all the way around.

 

They say their goodbyes and John helps Bane carry the rest of the packages back to the truck.

 

“You do not have to accompany me,” Bane tells him, securing the bags in the lockbox in the truck bed. “You must be tired.”

 

“I’m fine, besides, if Talia finds out I didn’t help, I’ll get in trouble.” John gives him a smile.

 

John follows him out to the house in his car, knowing Bane has an early morning, and not wanting to keep him out late just to drive him back into town. Bane lets them into the dark house and heads upstairs. When he comes back down, he’s wearing the mask he had on the day before.

 

“What is that thing?” John asks again, studying the twisted metal coils that make up the grill of the contraptions.

 

“It is a therapy for my lungs. I wear it for labour intensive tasks.”

 

“Like baths?” John asks.

 

Bane narrows his eyes. “I wore it for my workout before my bath. I simply hadn’t completed the therapy yet when you arrived.”

 

“Shit, did I mess with that? You didn’t have to take it off for me,” John says, a flash of guilt going through him.

 

“I did not take it off for you. But I appreciate that you don’t mind it,” Bane tells him seriously.

 

“It makes you look badass. Very dangerous. But in a cool way, not a scary way,” John assures him when Bane looks displeased. 

 

“That is why I don’t wear it in front of people. It gives them the wrong impression.” Bane explains, digging out a handsaw from a toolbox in the entry and pulling the door closed.

 

“You don’t want to come off as a sexy badass?” John teases, grinning when Bane’s skin flushes between the straps of the mask. “Come on, let’s go find us a tree.”

 

The property itself is quite large, reaching back a few hundred yards behind the house, then as far as the bluff hanging over the ocean to the side. They walk for ten minutes, side by side, and John shivers every time Bane’s arm brushes his. There’s something about being out here in the dark of night, far enough from the house and the road that all they can hear is the rustling of the trees and the white noise of the waves crashing on the distant shore. 

 

It’s peaceful, and yet with every step, John’s skin gets tighter and tighter, like he’s waiting for something to jump out at him. Bane finds a tree that’s a foot taller than he is, and when John gives his approval, he goes to one knee with the handsaw and starts cutting. 

 

Bane’s wearing his thick shearling jacket, but it’s pulled tight across his back and shoulders, and John is mesmerized by the back and forth movement of his body. John imagines that it’s him Bane is working at taking down, hands working dutifully and attentively to getting John off. Bane’s eyes above the mask, focusing only on him and his pleasure as he rings every last drop of come out of John. John’s whine is muffled by the tree as the trunk snaps and it lists to the side, set to fall exactly where John is standing. 

 

Bane’s hands yank him forward, crushing John to his chest and rolling them on the cold ground. The breath knocks out of him as Bane lands on top of him, and he panics for a moment before Bane shifts and he can suck in greedy lungfuls of air.

 

Bane hands are patting over his body, and he’s getting too close to John’s groin and a very embarrassing moment, so John squirms, bringing his thigh in direct contact with the erection hiding beneath Bane’s long coat. Bane stills, looking down at him in horror. 

 

“No,” John whispers, grabbing handfuls of Bane’s jacket and rolling his hips up, rubbing his own erection against Bane’s hip. “Don’t go anywhere.”

 

“John,” Bane breathes, voice tight through the mask, but he grinds down, eyes fluttering closed.

 

When he’s sure Bane isn’t going to flee, John runs one hand down Bane’s stomach, popping the button on his pants. The zipper is loud in the silence between them, and when John reaches inside and pulls him out, he groans. Bane is long, and thick, and perfect in John’s hand. Christ, he could use both hands and still not cover it all. He fumbles at his own pants as he strokes, Bane staring down at him in wonder.

 

“Is this okay?” he asks quietly, pressing their cocks together and lacing his finger together to cover them both.

 

“John,” Bane rasps, thrusting into John’s hands. He’s leaking freely, and John swipes his hands up to gather the fluid, smoothing it down their shafts and groaning.

 

Bane speeds up his thrusts, and his cock rubbing against John’s is almost too much to handle. His nerves are on fire, and it’s all he can do to focus on keeping his hands together. Bane’s huffing through the mask and John wants to touch him everywhere, but he can’t bear to let go. He’s so close already, and if he doesn’t get them both off right now, he’ll never forgive himself.

 

“God, I want you inside me,” John whines, and the next thing the knows, Bane is pulling him up and pressing him face first against a tree. Bark scrapes his face and for a second he worries Bane’s actually going to penetrate him without any prep. Then Bane’s body is lined up along the back of John’s, his thick cock nestled between his ass cheeks as Bane thrusts. 

 

Bane’s still leaking, and the slide is delicious, but John knows they can do better, so he reaches back and guides Bane between his legs, sliding across the sensitive skin of his perineum and rubbing over his balls. Bane growls and his hand digs into John’s hip, holding him in place, the other one kneading into John’s abdomen until he’s shuddering from the pressure. John braces himself on the tree, leaning over a little until Bane’s cock is nudging his from behind.

 

He gets a hand between him and the tree, jerking his own cock in short, quick pulls until he’s coming over his fist and onto the hard ground. He reaches back and spreads his come on Bane’s cock, slicking it up until it’s gliding smoothly between his legs. He puts both hands on the tree and pushes back into Bane’s thrusting.

 

“Come on,” he urges, clenching his thighs as hard as he can.

 

Bane bends over him, the mask a cold shock on the overheated skin of John’s neck. Bane pulls John to him, over and over, fingers digging into his flesh and he knows there will be bruises there in the morning, and if just this feels so good, what would fucking Bane be like?

 

Bane’s rhythm stutters, and he utters a low groan, the vibrations going through John’s chest where they’re pressed together. He comes, thick and warm all over John’s spent cock, thrusting until the very end and he’s spent, leaving John an exhausted mess against the tree.

 

Bane stays curved over him until his breathing evens out, and John’s back and shoulders are screaming under the strain, but he remembers the reason for the mask and lets Bane take his time. When he finally straightens and pulls out, Bane fixes John’s pants before his own, carefully tucking him back in and making a pleased sound when his fingers trail through the come coating his cock. John huffs a laugh and returns the favour.

 

“This is a nice surprise,” he grins, smoothing his palm over Bane’s still softening cock.

 

Bane hums, pressing the mask to John’s temple, his breath ruffling the hair there. By the time they make it back to the house with the tree, Bane is quiet and reserved. John figures he’s embarrassed by the fact that they just got so carried away that they fucked in the woods. John can’t say he blames him; it seems surreal now that it’s over. John realizes with a start that they haven’t even kissed yet. 

 

“I should go,” John says before Bane starts up the stairs to the house. “I’m kind of a mess.”

 

Bane’s gaze travels over him, and John can still see hunger there, still, so he presses a kiss to Bane cheek between the mask’s straps, and squeezes his hand.

 

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

  
Bane nods his head, breath still a little laboured. John gives him a smile and gets into his car, not realizing until he gets home that the only thing Bane said the whole time they were in the woods was John’s name.


	11. Chapter 11

Bane’s not proud of his behaviour in the days following his coupling with John in the woods, but he doesn’t know how else to handle his feelings of confusion and worry. So he hides. Barsad tells him the technical term is ‘chickenshit’, but Bane ignores him, focusing instead on his ongoing argument with Talia about her hair.

 

She’s started mimicking Bane in everything he does and wants her hair shaved off to match his gleaming scalp. He explains to her that his is only bare because of the mask. It pulls uncomfortably when he grows his hair out, and he’s never going to be able to go without the mask, so he sacrifices his hair instead. She sits on the counter and watches him dragging the blade of his straight razor over his scalp, asking again why she can’t have the same.

 

“Because it’s winter. Your head will freeze.”

 

“I’ll wear a hat,” she counters sensibly.

 

“People will think you’re a boy,” he tries.

 

Talia crinkles up her nose at him. “John says gender roles are antiquated and unnecessary.” She repeats carefully, like she’s memorized the words for this exact argument.

 

“Did he? And if someone mistakes you for a boy will you be upset?” he asks, rinsing off the blade.

 

Talia shrugs. “I don’t care. I know what I am.”

 

Bane smiles. Talia is a wonder to him. The only children he’s ever been around are his siblings, who were forced to grow up much too quickly, so he has no idea if Talia’s reasoning is advanced for a child of her age. She seems to grasp complex concepts quickly and has an answer for everything. He should ask John about it.

 

Bane’s smile fades and he wipes his head with a warm cloth, removing the remaining shaving cream. He bends at the waist so Talia can rub lotion on his scalp, patting him on the top of his head and fixing him with a serious look once she’s done.

 

“My turn.”

 

Bane considers. He thinks he knows what John would say, that it’s just hair, and if she hates it, it will grow back. Barsad is in favour of whatever stops the screaming when they try to brush out the knots Talia gets because she refuses to wear her hair up, but he’s reluctant to change anything about Talia’s appearance. Somewhere, deep inside, he wants to make sure Nadia will recognize her. He knows his sister is gone, but he can’t help but feel like he’s betraying her by allowing Talia to change. It’s ridiculous, because Talia will change and grow no matter what he does to prevent it, but he can’t stop the gnawing feeling in his gut when he thinks about it.

 

“A compromise,” he says. “We cut it in stages. If you want it shorter once you’ve grown used to the new length, we will cut it again.”

 

Talia taps her chin. “Okay, but we cut it today.”

 

“Tomorrow. I’ll take you to the salon in town.”

 

“But I want you to cut it.”

 

Bane closes his razor and stores it carefully in its case. “I don’t know how. It will look funny and Barsad will laugh at me.”

 

“Barsad already laughs at you,” Talia tells him.

 

Bane scoops her off the counter and takes her up to her bedroom. “It’s too late now, we’ll go tomorrow. You have my word.”

 

Talia doesn’t throw many tantrums, but he can see one brewing as she struggles in his arms.

 

“I’ll take you right after school. Then you can go show John,” he says, voice catching on Blake’s name.

 

Talia pouts, refusing a story and turning her back to Bane when he pulls the covers over her small form. He’s not sure why she’s so insistent on this, and it bothers him. He kisses the back of her head and bids her goodnight, leaving her door open a crack before fetching his mask and joining Barsad on the porch.

 

“She’s mad at me.”

 

Barsad nods. “She’s stubborn.”

 

“Like her mother. It’s not a bad quality.”

 

“No, but why this? She’s fixated on her hair,” Barsad says, his knife sliding over the piece of wood in his hand.

 

“Nadia’s hair was long. I should think Talia would want to emulate her, not me.” Bane presses the mask to his face, deftly securing the buckles.

 

“I won’t pretend to know what goes on in the mind of a six-year-old,” Barsad sighs. “Your mind, however, I would like to discuss.”

 

“Don’t push me,” Bane warns with a growl.

 

Barsad laughs. “I stopped being afraid of your wrath many years ago, brother.”

 

“I do not wish to discuss him.”

 

“Fine, I’ll discuss him. For some reason, John Blake sees your worth and you’ve cast him aside. Let me explain why I think that is-”

 

“Quiet,” Bane snaps, craning his head for the sound he just heard.

 

Barsad’s eyes meet his and Bane knows he hears it, too. A low buzzing noise has started inside the house. Bane jumps to his feet as Barsad throws down his piece of wood, his grip changing on the knife, transforming it into a weapon. Bane beats him to the door, easing it open and sliding into the house silently. They know every creak in the floor and they make it to the the second floor without a sound. The light is on in Talia’s bathroom and the buzzing has grown louder. 

 

Barsad’s eyes widen and he rushes past Bane into the bathroom. Talia is sitting on the counter, facing the mirror and shaving off sections of hair with an electric razor. They stand and watch, knowing it’s too late to do anything but let her finish the job. 

 

Talia shuts off the razor and rubs her hand over her head, brushing off stray hairs. She meets Bane’s eyes in the mirror, as though she’s daring him to get mad. Bane is startled to realize she resembles him. Her eyes are lighter, and her nose more like Nadia’s, but the shape of her head, and he overall bone structure match his. Her lips are a firm line, but he knows they’re full and wide like his when she smiles.

 

He can practically feel Barsad vibrating in anger beside him and Bane rests a hand on his brother’s shoulder to steady him.

 

“You took that from my room,” Barsad says, his voice deceptively flat.

 

“You wouldn’t listen to me.” Talia puts the razor on the counter, turning to face them and scattering hair onto the floor.

 

“That is not what we’re talking about. You went into my room and took something that is mine. Something you had no right to take.”

 

A flicker of guilt passes over Talia’s face. She balls up her fists and presses them into the counter. “I told you I wanted it cut.”

 

“And agreed to wait until tomorrow,” Bane reminds her. “What you did was wrong, and you could have hurt yourself. Change your pyjamas and go to bed, we will discuss this further in the morning.”

 

Talia jumps down, glaring at them as she goes by. The moment her door is closed, Barsad slumps against the counter, his breath shaky and uneven.

 

“At least she went for your razor and not mine,” Bane muses.

 

“It’s not funny. She could have been hurt,” Barsad snaps.

 

“I know.”

 

“If she’d been hurt, I would never have forgiven myself.”

 

“I know.”

 

“I’m angry with her. I didn’t think that was possible.” Barsad looks up at him, fear in his eyes.

 

Bane cocks his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

 

“Do you not spend every waking moment in fear of getting angry with her? Do you not wonder what you are capable of?”

 

“I do, but have no desire to harm her.” Bane watches Barsad closely.

 

“Neither do I,” Barsad says, looking confused. “I am disappointed that she disobeyed us, and hurt that she went through my things without asking, but that’s all. I feel no compunction to punish her with more than a reprimand.”

 

“I believe a punishment is in order,” Bane holds his hand up to silence his brother. “But nothing physical. You’re right, she could have been hurt, and she must understand not to do it again, but I do not feel like a monster in admonishing her.”

 

“We are not our father,” Barsad says conviction and relief in his voice.

 

“We are not.” 

 

Barsad smiles, clasping Bane’s shoulders. “We have prevailed, brother.”

  
Bane nods, thinking of John and knowing there will be more hurdles to overcome.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed that the chapter count keeps going up. I'm 90% sure it's going to stay at 16 chapters, but these assholes keep having feelings and those require many words.

Bane still hasn’t spoken to John when he packs his bag on Friday morning. He has a meeting to sign the papers making his dreams of national exposure a reality, and he needs to be in the city in three hours. He’s put it off so long that he’s been forced to charter a plane instead of taking the ferry. 

 

They’ve moved on from Talia’s misbehaviour, though she’s been grumpy all week. Bane at first assumed it was because they grounded her for taking something that wasn’t hers and wouldn’t allow any trips into town except for school. By Thursday night, it was apparent that her foul mood was due to an oncoming illness. Her fever started overnight and the last thing Bane wants to do is leave her.

 

“Do you think I’m going to toss her into the street?” Barsad asks.

 

“Of course not, but she needs me.” Bane shoves another shirt into his bag, not caring that it will be wrinkled when he arrives.

 

“She needs Tylenol and rest. You’re going.”

 

“I know, but I just,” Bane sighs.

 

“I understand,” Barsad says quietly. “And I will keep you informed of any changes.”

 

Bane nods, zipping his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. He checks in on Talia once more and promises to bring back cookies from her favourite bakery in the city, then he climbs in his truck and heads to the harbour to catch his plane. 

 

He sees John when he parks his truck. Bane watches him laughing with the woman who owns the flower shop on the corner, and he wants to go to him. To press his face against John’s neck and breathe him in, apologize for his distance, and beg for forgiveness. He turns away before he does anything foolish, walking away with his head low.

 

It’s not that he doesn’t want to be with John; some days he wants nothing more than John beside him and has to restrain himself from rushing into town to grovel at John’s feet. But Bane doesn’t know how to be more than one thing at once, and he’s just starting to feel like a parent to Talia. He has no clue how to balance that with being a partner to John. Talia has to come first, she has to, and he doesn’t want John to resent him for feeling that way.

 

Because John is a good man, and he will try to be patient and understanding, but when, after a month, or a year, Bane still can’t put him first, he’ll lose interest and walk away. Bane’s not sure he can live with that. Logically he knows he’s not in love with John, but he’s smart enough to see that it’s a near thing and any more time spent getting to know the man will make it impossible to turn away. 

 

He made a mistake in indulging his desire for John, and he knows they need to talk about it, but in this he’s a coward and can’t bring himself to make the first move. He’s not proud of it, but it is what it is. He only hopes John won’t hold it against him so much that it affects his relationship with Talia. She adores John, and he’s done so much to help her blossom into her true self. Bane wishes with all his might that it could work with John, but it’s impossible.

 

Bane is gruff and sharp in his meeting, impatiently checking his phone every five minutes for a messages from Barsad while his lawyer goes over the contracts word by word. When they break for dinner, Bane hurries out, dialing before he’s even out of the room.

 

When Barsad doesn’t answer, Bane almost throws his phone at the wall. He’s about to call the medical clinic to see if they’ve seen Talia when his phone starts ringing. Barsad’s number flashes on the screen and his heart unclenches.

 

“Why didn’t you answer?” He demands in greeting.

 

“I’ve decided I’m glad she cut her hair off,” Barsad drawls. “Now I don’t have to hold it back while she vomits.”

 

“She’s vomiting? Did you call the doctor?” Bane hands flexes on the phone.

 

“I called the clinic, the doctor says it’s the flu. Half the children in her class have it. I’m to keep her hydrated and hope she can keep down the fever reducer. If her fever starts to climb again, I’m to take her in.”

 

“The doctor didn’t see her?” Bane’s already heading back to the conference room for his jacket.

 

“They told me not to come since it’s so contagious.”

 

“And you listened?” Bane spits.

 

“Brother, I am watching her closely, and she will be fine. Finish your meetings and let me deal with this. I’m having someone come sit with her so I can get the medicine she needs, and by the time you return tomorrow, she will be better. You have my word.”

 

Bane stares at the food being brought in, and the contracts on the table. He really does need to be here. To finish this so he is in a position to care for Talia for years to come.

 

“Fine. But you keep me informed. I want to know of the smallest changes.”

 

“Of course,” Barsad agrees and ends the call.

 

Bane doesn’t eat. He’s too wound up and stressed out. The others notice and cut the break short. For once, Bane’s glad of the imposing nature of his height and his appearance because it means the others are wary of him and will follow his lead. They continue with the contracts, Bane checking his phone quickly every half hour when Barsad sends a message. 

 

Bane grows more tense when Barsad says he’s leaving Talia to venture into town. He’s purposely ignored Bane’s questions about who is watching over Talia, and he can only guess it’s because Barsad knows it’s someone Bane would not approve of. Another half hour goes by and no message is sent. Bane tells himself not to worry, that Barsad is driving home and will send word when he arrives. 

 

Another twenty minutes go by, and still nothing. Bane excuses himself and calls. Barsad answers right before it goes to voicemail, and Bane hears Talia whimpering in the background.

 

“What’s happened?” He demands, pacing the corridor.

 

“Her fever is up again. I just got back. She’ll be fine, she just needs to keep down her medicine.” Barsad’s voice is tight, and Bane can hear the worry underneath his reassuring words.

 

“I’m coming back.” 

 

Barsad is silent for a moment and Talia whines. “Perhaps you should.”

 

Bane heads for the conference room. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Call the clinic back and tell them you’re bringing her in. They’re open until nine.”

 

“I will,” Barsad tells him, shushing Talia’s cries. Bane hears another voice speaking, but it’s too low to make out over the line. 

 

“Barsad?”

 

“Be safe, brother. We’ll see you soon.”

 

Bane ends the call and stalks back into the meeting, the others turning to face him. 

 

“I have to leave, where do I sign?”

 

“But we haven’t finished,” his lawyer says.

 

“Did you read it?”

 

“Well, yes.”

 

“And is it fair?” Bane grabs his jacket and pulls it on.

 

“It’s acceptable, yes.” The lawyer frowns.

 

“Then where do I sign?” he repeats.

 

“Mr. al Ghul, it is important that we go over-”

 

“My child is ill. I am needed at home,” Bane says loudly. He’s frustrated, and sick with worry, and right now he’ll sign almost anything to be on his way.

 

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” the lawyer and his assistant trade glances, and the assistant grabs a pen. “Sign on the pages with the tabs, and we’ll take care of the rest.”

 

“Thank you.” Bane takes the pen and signs everywhere they tell him, hoping he’s doing the right thing. Thirty minutes later he’s bribing a charter pilot to fly him back to the island after his shift has ended. 

 

He’s a nervous wreck by the time they land, having endured the pilot’s wary stare when the altitude and his anxiety forced him to put on his mask. He texts Barsad to ask if he should head to the clinic or the house and almost feels like he can breathe again when Barsad tells him to come home and that Talia’s fever has broken. 

 

It’s a testament to his state of mind that he doesn’t realize the car parked in front of the house is John’s until he’s halfway to the stairs. He pauses and looks up at the house. The light is on in Talia’s room and somehow he knows that’s where John will be. 

 

Barsad’s eating a sandwich at the kitchen table when Bane comes in, an open bottle of beer in front of him.

 

“Marry that man,” Barsad tells him through a mouth full of food, then swallows and takes a sip of beer. “He’s amazing, and we can never let him leave. You marry him, or I will.”

 

Bane frowns at him, but Barsad looks completely serious. “Why is he here?”

 

“Because Talia likes him, and she needed to calm down. He came right out, no hesitation.” Barsad leans forward and puts down his sandwich. “He’s amazingly competent, brother. He put her in a lukewarm bath right after we spoke, and her fever broke soon after. He got her settled enough to sleep and cleaned up the war zone in the bathroom. He even made me this sandwich.”

 

“Talia is awake now,” Bane points out.

 

“She had to vomit again, but it’s been almost an hour and she’s kept the Pedialyte down. She’s been waiting for you.” 

 

“You should get some sleep,” Bane tells him, turning towards the stairs when he hears John’s laugh. “I’ll watch over her tonight.”

 

Barsad’s hand curls around his wrist and Bane turns back. 

 

“I’m serious, Bane. Do not let him get away. He’s good for you. For us.”

 

Bane pulls away and heads for the stairs. John is sitting beside a glassy-eyed Talia on the bed, a book about fairies open in front of them. He watches them for a moment from the doorway, heads bent together while John reads to her. He sucks in a deep breath, the sound of it through the mask drawing their attention. Bane’s heart melts at the tired grin Talia send him.

 

“You came back.”

 

“Of course I did.” He crosses the room, running a hand over her shorn locks. She’s still warm to the touch, but not alarmingly so.

 

“I threw up,” she tells him solemnly.

 

Bane nods. “I was told. Do you feel better now?”

 

“My throat hurts.” She rubs her neck to emphasize her pain.

 

“Then you should go to sleep so you can rest and heal.”

 

“John brought me a new book.” She smiles up at him, her eyes tired and drooping.

 

“Just a few more pages, then it’s bedtime,” John says softly, turning the page.

 

“May I stay?” Bane asks, and John finally looks at him. There’s no malice in his eyes, not anger or hatred, just a gentle understanding of how worried Bane’s been.

 

“Sit,” Talia directs, patting John on the arm to get him to continue.

 

Talia’s half asleep by the time they turn the next page and John promises to read her the rest another day before kissing her forehead and climbing off the bed. Bane tucks her in, but before he can turn off the lamp, Talia grabs his hand.

 

“Barsad said I can have a popsicle for breakfast.”

 

Bane hears John’s quiet laugh from the doorway. “Only if you go to sleep,” he presses the mask to her hand and shuts off the light.

 

Once they’re downstairs, John goes directly for his coat by the door.

 

“Thank you. For helping with Talia,” Bane says, unable to meet John’s eyes. “I should have been here.”

 

“I was happy to do it. Barsad did really well for it being his first time with a sick kid. It can get scary when they have a fever, but he stayed calm.” John buttons his jacket and pulls out his gloves.

 

“I also wish to apologize for my behaviour this week,” Bane tells him, stiffly, trying and failing to look John in the face. “It was unacceptable and rude, and I did not intend to treat you poorly.”

 

“Look, just cut the shit, okay?” John sighs, pulling his gloves on. “If all you wanted was a one time thing, you should have told me. I’m not fond of being used and then ignored, but I really like your kid, and you’ve put me in a tough spot.”

 

Bane stares at him, fumbling for the words to explain. “That’s not it at all.”

 

“Then what is it? Because I have no idea what’s going on. I thought I had a pretty good read on you, what with the flirting, and the coffee, and everything, and now I have no idea where we stand.”

 

Bane looks back up the stairs. He doesn’t want Talia or Barsad to overhear them, but he has to make sure John knows he doesn’t regret being with him. “Will you come outside, please?”

 

John nods and they head onto the porch. John crosses his arms and stares at Bane expectantly.

 

“The issue is not with you, it lies solely with me,” Bane starts.

 

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” John says, anger evident in his voice.

 

“Please, let me explain. I do not wish for what happened between us to be a solitary occurrence. But I worry that it must be.”

 

John’s face darkens, his jaw clenching.

 

“Talia is new to me still, and I must put her needs before my own. Parenting her, caring for her, is one of the hardest things I have ever done, John, and you have helped me in that regard more than you’ll ever know. You’ve shown me how easy it is to love her, but also how much she needs me. I cannot put anyone else before her, not even you.”

 

“Whoa, when did I ask you to do that? I don’t want that. She’s your child, I understand what that means. Hell, I put her before you, too,” John argues, his hands raised between them.

 

“But how long would it be before you grew resentful of that arrangement? How long before you decide I’m not worth it?” Bane asks, his body tense and aching in the cold.

 

“Do you really think so little of me, or are you just clueless about how relationships work?” John stares at him, anger written clearly on his face. “Because I have no problem with Talia coming first with you. None, so don’t use her as your excuse. If you don’t want to be with me, just tells me. I never pegged you for a coward, Bane.”

 

Bane winces. John is hurt, and Bane can’t let him leave thinking Bane doesn’t care about him. He shivers in the breeze, head throbbing, but he has to get it out. John deserves to know why Bane can’t be with him.

 

“There’s a darkness in me, John. One that I may not always be able to control.” Bane holds up his hand when John starts to protest. “My father was a hard man. He was sick and suffered delusions, and he took his anger out on his children. He was cruel, and twisted, but he was smart, and no one knew about it until it was too late. He bred us in darkness, John. He inked it into our very souls and there it festers, waiting for the moment to strike. I live in constant fear of it getting out and I could not live with myself if my darkness ever hurt you.”

 

John takes a shaky breath, and takes ahold of Bane’s hand. “I want you to listen to me, okay? Really hear me. I have seen nothing, absolutely nothing in you that would indicate that you are anything like your father. I’ve seen darkness, Bane. I know what it looks like. How it seeps into you, little by little, inching closer until it’s all around you and you can’t escape. I have been through shit, too, okay? I know you, and I know you’re a good man. You love that little girl in there like she’s your own, and you didn’t have to do that. Plenty of people couldn’t do what you did. A lot of people wouldn’t even try. You are  _ not _ the man he was, and you’re sure as hell not the same kind of father.”

 

Bane has to look away, the emotion and conviction in John’s face is too hard to see. “I killed him.”

 

“What are you talking about?” John asks, his fingers tightening around Bane’s hand.

 

“I killed my father,” he repeats. “I was fourteen and I’d grown too big for him to hurt easily. So he hurt the others. He was angry with me and he broke Barsad’s arm. I fought him, and I won. I knocked him unconscious and I took Nadia and Barsad and I ran. Nadia told the authorities everything, but when they came for my father he was already gone. When they couldn’t find him, Nadia talked them into letting us return home. It was stupid and I should have known better, but we felt so exposed in town with everyone knowing. Even though it was hell, our home was all we knew. That night I woke coughing. Our father had returned and set the house to burn with us inside. I got the others out, but I knew he was still inside. He wanted us to burn together. I went back in to drag him out, so that he would have to answer for what he’d done.” Bane gasps through the mask. He’s never told anyone what happened when he threw himself through the flames to reach his father, but he knows he can’t stop now that he’s begun. John is watching him with his soft, dark eyes, but there’s no pity there, only strength and concern.

 

“He attacked me and we fought. He dragged me to the back of the house, to the basement stairs. I knew if I didn’t do my worst I would not survive, so I pushed him. I locked the door, like he had done to us so many times before, and I tried to leave. The flames were everywhere, and I lost my way. I had just found the front door when the house came down on top of me.”

 

Bane shutters out a breath, his grip tight on John’s hand. “I woke up three weeks later in the hospital, broken and burned, and unable to breathe on my own. My body has healed as much as it is able, but my soul will forever be tainted.”

 

“Do you regret it?” John asks, his eyes burning with an intensity that Bane’s can’t decipher.

 

“No,” he answers honestly.

 

“Good.” John nods. “Thank you for telling me that. For trusting me with it.”

 

“I did not want you to think I was simply brushing you aside.”

 

“I know, and I get that now. Look, I can’t tell you what to do, Bane. It has to be your decision. I only recently got my life back, and I’m looking to move on. Now, I’d really, really love it if you were a part of that, but I understand if it’s not something that you can do.”

 

Bane lowers his head, feeling like he’s failed the man in front of him.

 

“Just do me a favour, okay? If you’re going to walk away from me, do it because it’s what you want to do. Don’t do it because you’re afraid of what might never be,” John sniffs, his nose red from the cold. “You’re not your father. You never could be, and I’m not afraid of you. You’re big, and intimidating, and that mask is scary as fuck, but I dig it. Something about you checks all my boxes, and I’m all in if you are.”

 

“John-”

 

“I’m not going to sit around and pine, though. I deserve better than that. So eventually, I’m going to need your decision. Just know that I love that little girl up there, and I’m well on my way to loving you, okay?” John laughs wetly, tears in his eyes. “I’m gonna go, and you’re going to sit up all night and watch Talia sleep because you’re a parent now, and that’s what they do. But while you’re sitting there, know that if you’ll let me, I’ll be right there beside you.”

 

John hugs him tightly, then he’s pulling away and jogging down the stairs to his car. He gives Bane a little wave before he drives away and it takes every ounce of strength Bane has not to go after him.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This should really be two separate chapters and not one giant one, but meh. Enjoy your extra long new chapter!

John grins when he sees the motorbike parked across from his store. Selina is waiting in front of the door, sipping from a slim, silver thermos.

 

“What are you doing here?” John asks, hugging her tightly.

 

“Well, I couldn’t leave you alone on Christmas, could I?” She stomps her feet to warm them.

 

John unlocks the door and ushers her inside, flicking on the lights behind the counter. “I can’t believe you came, thank you.”

 

“Hey, if you have more of this coffee, I may never leave. Does everyone get hot coffee delivered to their door?” Selina holds the thermos to her face, inhaling deeply.

 

John flushes. “Not exactly. Did you see who dropped it off?”

 

“No, it was already here.”

 

“And you just decided to drink something you found on the sidewalk?” 

 

“No, there was a note. Who’s Bane?” Selina ask, smiling slyly and handing over an opened envelope.

 

“You opened it? It has my name on it, Selina.” John slides the folded piece of paper out of the envelope.

 

“Hey, I was just looking out for you,” She takes another sips of coffee and hums. “God, this is good.”

 

John runs his fingers over the words on the paper.  _ Thank you for your patience. -Bane  _ is written in a surprisingly graceful scrawl, the sight of it warming him. He really, really wants Bane to listen to his heart and let himself be with John. If he doesn’t, John doesn’t know what he’ll do.

 

“So, who is he?” Selina asks, grabbing the note. “And what are you being so patient about?”

 

“He’s just a friend. I helped him and his brother out last night when their niece was sick. It’s just a thank you.”

 

“And how often does this ‘Bane’ have cause to thank you?” She asks, shrewdly.

 

John laughs. “More than I think he’s comfortable with.” 

 

“But you like him?”

 

John smiles. “I really do.”

 

“And he’s not a self important jackass who is going to forget you exist?”

 

“No, definitely not. He’s...I don’t want to say different, because that sounds clichéd, but he’s different.”

 

Selina hops up on the counter, pouring some of the coffee into John’s mug. “Tell me.”

 

So he does, he tells her about how he met Bane and Talia, and how Bane is unlike anyone he’s ever met. How John feels like he can talk to him about anything, and how unflinchingly honest Bane is, even if he knows the truth is harsh. He explains Bane’s struggle to find even ground as a new parent, and the times he’s sought John out to ask his opinion on raising Talia.

 

“He sounds interesting,” Selina admits. “Do I get to meet him?”

 

“We’ll see,” John says, grinning.

 

They open the store and Selina helps him restock the shelves for the final push before Christmas. Around noon, Talia comes through the door and runs right to John, hugging him tightly around the waist.

 

“Hey, someone’s feeling better.” John laughs when he sees how harried Barsad looks.

 

“It’s like she now has to expend all the energy she saved up by laying in bed for two days.” Barsad leans on the counter.

 

“Do you want to leave her here for a bit? I can watch her if you have stuff to do.”

 

“Oh, yes!” Talia cries. “Please, Barsad? I can help John!”

 

“Who’s this?” Selina asks, walking up.

 

Barsad straightens, his sleepy eyes widening a little.

 

“This is Talia,” John says. “Talia this is my cousin, Selina.”

 

“So this is the famous Miss Talia,” Selina smiles. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

 

“I’m very popular,” Talia tells her.

 

John chuckles. “And this is Barsad, one of Talia’s uncles.” 

 

“Pleased to meet you.” Barsad steps forward, extending his hand.

 

“Well, hello there,” Selina smiles, her teeth flashing. 

 

John nearly groans. He knows that look, and he doubts even Barsad will be able to resist Selina if she’s decided to pursue him.

 

“You must be Bane’s brother.”

 

Barsad’s eyes slide over to John, eyebrows raised. “You’ve told her about Bane?”

 

“She drank my coffee,” John complains.

 

“He’s at the roasting site today, I’m sure he would be pleased if you appeared in search of more. Perhaps Selina will watch the store.” Barsad suggests.

 

“I’m sure Bane is very busy,” John says flatly. “As am I. I will see him soon, I’m sure.”

 

“Tonight,” Talia says. “You’ll see him tonight.”

 

“I will?”

 

“At the Santa Parade. We came to ask you to come with us. You will, won’t you?” Talia looks up at him beseechingly.

 

John narrows his eyes. “You’re both as transparent as cellophane, you know that?”

 

“But is it working?” Barsad asks, looking pleased when Selina laughs.

 

“Please, John?” Talia pulls on his hand.

 

John crouches in front of her. “On one condition.”

 

“What?”

 

“You wear a toque. Your head must be freezing out there!” He says, rubbing his hand over the bristles on her scalp, making her giggle.

 

“We were just on our way to buy one. Apparently none of the headgear in the house was acceptable.” Barsad tells him.

 

“He tried to make me wear a ballcap,” Talia says with an air of suffering.

 

“Well, I think we can do better than that,” John grins. “Leave her here with me and we’ll find something she’s guaranteed to keep on her head.” John promises.

 

“Come on, I’ll help you look.” Selina holds out her hand and Talia looks at John, only accepting it after his nod.

 

He stops Barsad before he can slip out the door. “Hey, are you sure Bane is okay with me tagging along for the parade?”

 

“If it pleases Talia, it will please Bane,” Barsad assures him. “Will your cousin be joining us?”

 

“Most likely. Why, does she seem interesting to you?” John asks.

 

Barsad scowls. “I simply wish for you to have family around you for the holidays, John.”

 

“Cellophane,” John tells him, laughing when Barsad flushes and escapes out the door.

 

By the time he comes back a few hours later, Talia is sporting a bright red knitted Gatsby cap that’s low enough to cover her ears.

 

“It matches your scarf!” Talia tells him, falling into Barsad’s arms.

 

“It does indeed. A fetching colour on you, little one.” Barsad smile warmly.

 

“So Talia tells me we’re going to look at some boats tonight,” Selina says.

 

John looks over from where he’s ringing through a sale. Barsad seems a little shell shocked at having Selina address him directly.

 

“It’s a yacht parade,” Talia corrects her. “A chance for the elite to showcase their egos.”

 

John chokes out a laugh and Mrs. Friedel, whose husband’s yacht is one of the fleet, narrows her eyes at him.

 

“But I’m told it’s very pretty to look at,” John says, trying to smooth things over. “And we’ll get to see Santa, won’t we, Mrs. Friedel?”

 

“Yes, we will,” she agrees in a clipped tone. 

 

“Is it the real Santa?” Talia asks and the adults all share unsure glances. In the end, it’s Mrs. Friedel who answers her.

 

“Let me tell you a secret, young lady. Santa is a very, very busy person. He has so much work to do to get ready to deliver presents that he has a whole league of special friends who go out and act on his behalf. So the Santa you’ll see tonight isn’t the real Santa, but he’s an ambassador of the North Pole, and he’s here to help us celebrate Christmas and get things ready for the real Santa to come.”

 

“Ohhh,” Talia says, nodding.

 

Barsad nods to Mrs. Friedel and John breathes a sigh of relief. That answer is something he’s sure Bane will be okay with. Not too fanciful, and straightforward enough to satisfy Talia, while still letting her indulge in the magic of Christmas.

 

Mrs. Friedel gives John a smile and takes her bag. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Blake.”

 

“Merry Christmas, ma’am.” John says, humbled.

 

“What did you ask Santa for, Barsad?” Selina asks, her gaze dragging up his body.

 

“Shouldn’t you feed Talia before the parade?” John asks, saving Barsad before his stammering gives him away.

 

“Yes, he should,” Talia says, pulling on her jacket and taking Barsad’s hand.

 

“How much do I owe you for the hat?” Barsad asks.

 

“Get out of my store,” John points to the door and Talia giggles. It’s an argument he’s had with Bane and Barsad, and one he never intends to lose.

 

Barsad shakes his head and turns to Selina. “And now you know why he gets the coffee. Thank you for watching Talia, and thank you for the hat. We’ll see you in a few hours.”

 

“Thank you!” Talia calls as she’s pulled out the door.

 

At six thirty-six, John thanks the last customer and Selina locks the door behind them, collapsing against it.

 

“God, I’d forgotten how exhausting retail is.”

 

John laughs. “Especially this time of year. But Christmas sales pay the bills, so I can’t really complain.”

 

“You know what would perk us right up? Some more of that coffee. Where can we get some?”

 

“Of that blend? Nowhere. It’s new and won’t be out until they go national in the spring.” John says, sorting the receipts.

 

“You’re telling me this Bane guy only lets you taste his  _ special blend _ ?” Selina teases.

 

“Don’t be gross.”

 

“But you have, haven’t you? Oh, you’re blushing! You have!” Selina laughs.

 

“I’m not telling you anything,” John tells her, face aflame.

 

“John, I’m happy for you, really. I want you to have someone who appreciates you, and it sounds like this guy does.”

 

John ducks his head, counting out the float. “I think he does. I mean, I feel like he does. And he lets me spend time with Talia, which is huge because he’s very protective of her. But he’s worried, you know? About balancing everything. I’m trying not to push. But I told him I wouldn’t wait around forever, so.” John shrugs.

 

“Well, if he’s smart, he’ll see what a great person you are and how much that little girl loves you. He’d be a fool to ignore that.”

 

“Yeah, but I don’t want him to be with me just for Talia. I’m going to be there for her either way, but if he doesn’t feel like he can handle a relationship, I’m not going to force him into one. No matter how hard Barsad, or anyone else pushes for it.” John takes the cash drawer out, and puts it on the counter, sealing the deposit bag and gathering the float container.

 

“Hey, I know that,” Selina says quietly, laying her hand on John’s arm. “I didn’t mean to freak you out, I’m sorry.”

 

John rubs a hand over his face. “I’m just tired. Tomorrow is going to be insane, and the whole Bane thing added to everything else is kind of overwhelming me. I haven’t even bought groceries yet. I can’t feed you.”

 

“John,” Selina laughs. “I can feed myself. Let’s go meet up with the others and we’ll grab something on the way. Tomorrow I’ll get groceries while you open the store. We’ll figure it out.”

 

“Yeah, okay. Just, don’t say anything in front of Bane, okay? He’s kind of skittish.”

 

“Cross my heart. I’ll devote all my time to flustering Barsad.” Selina nods seriously.

 

“Be gentle with him, too. They didn’t exactly have a happy upbringing and they take things very seriously.” John warns.

 

Selina tilts her head a little and stares at him. “You’re very protective of them. Almost like they’re yours.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” John says, disappearing into the back to hide the float.

 

They drop off the deposit and stop for cardboard containers full of steaming perogies before making their way to the marina. They’re later than John thought they’d be, but Bane knows he can’t always get the store closed on time, so John’s confident Talia will have been warned.

 

The waterfront is flooded with people and John’s reminded that the island is much more populated than it appears. Nearly every little cove and harbour along the island is inhabited with people who only come into town a few times a year. Apparently one of those times is tonight.

 

The parade has started and John goes onto his toes to see the yachts drifting by, strung with lights and decorated in all the gaudy accoutrements Christmas can supply. A large hand wraps around his waist, pulling him firmly forward until he’s pressed all along Bane’s solid form. John grins up at him, he can’t help it, and Bane’s eyes crinkle at the corners. His mask is hidden beneath his scarf and beanie, but John can hear the mechanical breathing through the wool covering the grill.

 

“Hey,” 

 

“John,” Bane says, his chest rumbling where he’s touching John.

 

“John!” Talia shouts, drawing his attention away from Bane. She’s sitting on Barsad’s shoulders, a chocolate lollipop in her hand.

 

“Hey, nice hat,” John teases. “Oh, Bane, this is my cousin, Selina. Selina, this is Bane.”

 

Bane inclines his head in her direction. “Talia speaks highly of you.”

 

“Well, that is high praise, indeed.” Selina smiles, looping her arm through John’s.

 

“She also said you drank John’s coffee.”

 

“I did, and I’d do it again. It was so good I’m asking Santa for a pound of it in my stocking.”

 

“Selina,” John chides.

 

“Don’t pretend like you haven’t done the same.” Selina tosses her hair.

 

“I’m sure Santa will find a way to fulfill your requests.” Bane’s eyes are crinkling again and John can’t help but grin up at him.

 

“Selina, tell Barsad about your motorbike,” Talia calls, munching on her chocolate.

 

Selina slides over, leaving Bane and John staring at each other.

 

“I am pleased you came,” Bane tells him.

 

“Me too,” John says quietly. “I’ve never seen anything quite like this.”

 

Bane hums and they turn to watch the procession. In the dark, the ships float gracefully across the water, lights sparkling and Christmas music playing loud enough to hear on shore. Bane shifts and his arm brushes John, his fingers ghosting over the back of John’s hand.

 

John looks around and sees that Barsad, Talia, and Selina have migrated closer to the water, leaving he and Bane alone. Bane looks down at him, his hand seeking out John’s with purpose. John smiles shyly, lacing their fingers together. John returns his attention to the boats where Santa has appeared on the final vessel. Selina glances back at them, giving him a smug smile when she sees their linked hands.

 

“Will you join us after the parade?” Bane asks quietly. “I will replace the coffer your cousin drank.”

 

John laughs. “That sounds great, thank you.”

 

Bane nods, looking pleased. 

 

Santa’s yacht has moored in the marina and the man himself is disembarking, much to the delight of the gathered children. Talia is bouncing on Barsad’s shoulders as they make their way closer so she can get one of the small gifts being handed out.

 

When the crowd starts to thin, Bane leads John to one of the benches to wait and they sit side by side, looking out over the water. Barsad and Selina return with Talia curled up in Barsad’s arms, fast asleep. 

 

“Guess she’s not as recovered as she thought,” John says.

 

“Another few days rest might be needed.” Barsad shifts Talia until her legs are wrapped around his waist, her chin hooked over his shoulder.

 

“I’m afraid your coffee will have to wait.” Bane lets go of John’s hand and gets to his feet.

 

“I will take her home, brother, you stay here,” Barsad interjects.

 

“I’m going to go back with them,” Selina adds. “Barsad has an old Indian bike in his shed that I might be able to help him with.”

 

“Maybe we should all go,” John suggests, not ready to leave Bane’s company quite yet.

 

Selina presses her hand to his shoulder when he tries to stand. “No, you two stay and have fun. I’ll see you at your place later.”

 

John looks at Bane. “You did promise me coffee.”

 

Bane huffs a laugh through the scarf. “Come along, then.” 

 

He stops to smooth a hand over Talia’s head, then bids them goodbye, leading John back into the downtown core. John’s not sure if he should reach for Bane’s hand again, and just as he’s working up the courage to try, Bane stops in front of a small warehouse and pulls out his keys. 

 

As soon as the door opens John can smell the beans. It’s overpowering and more raw than he’s used to, but there’s an earthy musk that’s familiar. 

 

“I didn’t realize you were just around the corner from The Bird’s Nest.” John blinks into the sudden light as Bane flicks on the switches.

 

“Why did you chose that name for your store? I never asked.” Bane takes him by the hand and draws him further into the space. Large copper roasting vats are spaced around the room with bags and bags of raw coffee beans stacked down the middle.

 

“It’s a joke,” John tells him, looking around. “Because of my name.”

 

“Your name?” Bane unwraps his scarf, revealing the mask underneath. 

 

There’s a small desk at the back of the room and Bane unbuckles the mask, laying it carefully on the wood.

 

“Yeah, Robin,” John says, watching Bane flex his jaw. “Like the bird.”

 

“You’re name is Robin,” Bane says, surprised.

 

John shrugs. “I’m afraid so.” 

 

“A little bird.” Bane smiles.

 

“Hey now, who are you calling little?”

 

Bane stalks forward and John takes a step back, pressing against one of the roasters. “You, little bird.”

 

John swallows hard, inhaling the scent of Bane and the coffee, and wanting everything all at once.

 

“Didn’t you say something about coffee?” he says, flustered.

 

“If you drink it now, you’ll be up all night.” Bane runs a hand up John’s arm.

 

“Decaf?”

 

“I don’t have any open.”

 

“Oh,” John breathes, Bane’s fingers curling around the back of his neck.

 

“We should talk,” Bane says quietly.

 

“Um, yeah, okay.” John nods.

 

“I worry,” Bane says.

 

“Okay,” John frowns when Bane doesn’t continue. “About what?”

 

“About letting you in just to have you walk away. About Talia losing you in her life should things not go well with us. About hurting you.” Bane’s eyes are sad, but his fingers are petting through John’s hair.

 

“I understand that. I’m worried about those things, too. If we start a relationship and it doesn’t work, I don’t just lose you. I lose Talia and Barsad, too. I’ve grown very attached to them. But those are the chances you take when you start a relationship. Even friendships have pitfalls.” John rests his hands on Bane’s chest, relishing the heat and the strength he feels through Bane’s shirt.

 

“Friendship,” Bane says speculatively. “Are we friends, John?”

 

John frowns up at him. “Of course we are. At least, I think so.”

 

“And friendship is a good place to start, yes? A solid base on which to build a future?”

 

John’s heart leaps in his chest. “Yeah, yes, a very good place.”

 

“And if we proceeded slowly, that would be agreeable to you?” Bane backs up, pulling John with him by the back of the neck. He doesn’t stop until he’s sitting on the low counter that runs along one side of the room.

 

“Of course. Whatever you need.” John agrees, stepping between Bane’s spread thighs.

 

“Good. Because I find that even with all my worries and my fears, with everything that could go wrong, I still want you.” Bane pulls John closer by the hips.

 

“Yeah?” John smiles, his hands braced on Bane’s massive shoulders. Bane’s lips are lush and close, and John wants to taste them.

 

“More than I’ve ever wanted before. I’ve never had a partner before,” Bane admits, his hands dropping to John’s ass, firm and curious.

 

“So we’ll go slow. As slow as you’d like,” John promises, planting his knee beside Bane’s hip.

 

Bane makes an agreeable noise, lifting John up until he’s straddling Bane on the counter. It’s not terribly wide and the only thing holding John in place are Bane’s hands.

 

“Is this slow enough?” John asks, inches from Bane’s mouth.

 

“It is agreeable,” Bane says, rubbing his nose alongside John’s. “I wonder if your would permit me to apologize for my behaviour after our dalliance amongst the trees.”

 

“You already apologized for that, but I’m open to different interpretations.” John gasps as Bane stands, hands tight on John’s thighs as he walks across the room. 

 

Bane tosses John down on a stack of burlap sacks and drops to his knees. “It’s important to be open minded.”

 

John’s not sure how his pants are already open, but Bane certainly doesn’t waste any time. John moans when Bane takes him in, his mouth hot and moist as he bobs his head. There’s little suction, and almost no attention to detail, but John can barely think because it’s Bane and he’s got John’s cock in his mouth and somehow he’s getting all his Christmas presents early.

 

Bane hollows his cheeks on the next pull, drawing a strangled groan out of John. He bucks up a little, unable to help himself, and Bane hums his approval, sliding his hands under John’s thighs and hiking them over his shoulders. John’s hand goes to Bane’s head, fingers seeking a grip on his bald scalp. When he finds none, he whines high in his throat. Bane is quickly taking him apart and all John can do is squirm.

 

Bane chuckles, sending vibrations through John’s cock and straight to his gut, where a warm, tight feeling is already growing. Bane captures his hands, lacing their fingers together and giving John something to push against.

 

“God, you’re good at that,” Joan gasps, using the leverage of their linked hands to thrust up in short bursts. 

 

Bane hums again, cutting John’s stamina in half.

 

“Fuck, I’m getting close.”

 

Bane takes him in further, throat convulsing around the head of John’s cock before he pulls off and does it again.

 

“Bane, Bane, fuck, I’m gonna come if you keep, ahh!” John cries as Bane glides his teeth lightly over John’s cock. “Yes, fuck, yes, please don’t stop. You’re so good, so fucking good.

 

John knows he’s babbling, but he can’t help it. Bane’s thumbs are stroking over the strip of skin just above his hips, where John’s jacket has ridden up, and all he can think about is the tight, wet heat of Bane’s mouth.

 

“Bane,” John warns, pulling on his hands.

 

Bane tightens his hold on John and speeds up his assault, sucking John down over and over until John cries out, his orgasm flooding through him while he comes with little thrusts into Bane’s mouth. Bane waits for him to finish before pulling off and swallowing thickly. 

 

John’s still dazed, and less than graceful, but he slides off the bags, fumbling for Bane’s pants. Bane pulls himself out and cups the back of John’s head as he leans over and takes in as much as he can.

 

Bane lets out a grateful groan even though John can only fit the first few inches in. He mouths at the head of Bane’s cock, barely getting his fingers around the shaft before Bane’s fingers tighten in his hair and he’s coming, hot and a little spicy across John’s tongue. It’s a bad angle, and John has a hard time keeping his mouth sealed around Bane until he’s finished. He has to slurp, but he manages to keep most of it in his mouth until he can sit up and swallow. 

 

He’s barely taken a breath before Bane’s on him, pushing John back onto the cold floor and kissing him frantically. John responds in kind, only realizing once his tongue is in Bane’s mouth, that this is their first kiss. He laughs and Bane draws back, frowning down at him.

 

“Sorry, sorry, I’m not laughing at you,” John says, pulling Bane back in for a kiss. “We’re just doing this way out of order.”

 

“Order?” Bane asks, nuzzling at John’s neck with his soft, scarred lips.

 

John angles his head up to give Bane better access. “Yeah, usually people kiss, then move on to frotting and blow jobs.”

 

“Is that a problem?” Bane mumbles against his skin.

 

“Nope, just an observation.” John pets at Bane’s back, making a note to actually get the man undressed the next time they do something like this. And to find a bed; he’s getting a little tired of having sex on the cold, hard ground. Well, not tired of the sex so much as the backache.

 

Bane pulls back suddenly, staring at him.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Come to the house for Christmas. You and your cousin.”

 

“Oh. Are you sure? That seems like maybe it’s the opposite of slow,” John says.

 

“I want you there,” Bane says simply, and John melts a little.

 

“Okay, okay, we will.”

  
Bane smiles at him, bigger than any John’s seen before, and it’s something John knows he could get very used to seeing.


	14. Chapter 14

“Stop fussing,” Selina whispers, standing beside John on the porch.

 

“I’m not,” John says, running his hand through his hair for the third time since he knocked on the door.

 

They can hear Talia singing Christmas carols at the top of her lungs inside the house, and the music she’s singing along to must be too loud because no one has come to let them in. John shrugs at Selina and opens the door, warmth and the smell of turkey greeting them.

 

“Hello?” John calls.

 

“John!” Talia shrieks from the living room. “John’s here!”

 

She comes barrelling into the entry, throwing herself into John’s arms with manic laughter.

 

“I don’t know, Selina, I just don’t think Talia’s very excited about Santa’s visit tonight,” John says mournfully.

 

“Yes, I am!” Talia says, bouncing on the balls of her feet. There’s a piece of thick paper hanging by a thread around her neck that reads  _ Don’t feed the elf _ .

 

“I know what you mean,” Selina agrees. “She’s just so quiet and reserved about it all.”

 

“I am too excited!” Talia shouts.

 

“If you say so, but I just don’t see it.” John grins at her, hanging his coat on the rack by the door.

 

“My apologies for not hearing the door over Talia’s carolling,” Barsad tells them, coming in from the kitchen.

 

“That’s because you put earplugs in!” Talia accuses.

 

“Pardon?” Barsad leans toward her.

 

“You put earplugs in!” Talia says slower, and at twice the volume.

 

“What?” Barsad cups his hand around his ear.

 

“EARPLUGS!” Talia shouts, bursting into giggles when Barsad scoops her up and turns her upside down.

 

John laughs at them, watching Talia run back into the living room the minute her feet touch the floor.

 

“Where can we put these?” Selina asks, holding up the bags of groceries.

 

“Follow me,” Barsad says. “Bane is upstairs,” he throws over his shoulder before leading Selina down the hall.

 

John smiles to himself and heads up the stairs, overnight bag in hand. When he and Bane had returned to the house the night before, it was to find Selina and Barsad on the back porch, elbows deep in the guts of Barsad’s 1942 Indian Scout 500 motorbike, already having made plans for she and John to return the following day and spend the night so they could all be with Talia on Christmas morning. When John had asked Selina her thoughts on Barsad later, Selina had been coy, simply telling John she thought Barsad was an interesting man.

 

John can hear Bane moving around in his room when he reaches the second floor. The door is closed and he feels weird just barging in so he knocks, waiting awkwardly in the hallway until Bane answers.

 

“Hi.” John smiles up at him when Bane cracks the door open.

 

He’s wearing his mask, but Bane’s eyes light up and he steps back to let John in. He’s shirtless, moving forward to wrap his arms around John in an embrace.

 

“Little bird,” Bane rumbles, his breath through the mask ruffling John’s hair.

 

John drops his bag and returns the hug, laying his cheek on Bane’s chest. “Is that a thing now? Because I’m not sure if I approve.”

 

“I will only use it in private,” Bane promises, his hands sliding down to John’s waist. “Thank you for coming.”

 

John scoffs. “Not like I had much of a choice.”

 

Bane stills and John pulls back to look up at him.

 

“I just meant that all my favourite people are here, so how could I not be?”

 

Bane relaxes and lets out a small chuckle, backing up to sit on the bed and pulling John with him. “Barsad will be touched to know you think so highly of him.”

 

“God, don’t tell him I said that, I’ll never live it down.”

 

“You’ve brought your things,” Bane observes, moving John around until he’s straddling Bane’s lap.

 

John flushes. “You asked me to.”

 

“I did,” Bane agrees in a pleased voice, his hands massaging John’s lower back. “I enjoy it when you do as I say.”

 

“Don’t get too used to it,” John tells him, tracing one of the mask’s straps with his finger. It’s hard for him to look Bane in the eyes sometimes. He feels like he’s being stripped down to his core; taken apart and laid out for Bane’s perusal. John shivers and Bane’s hands grow firmer.

 

“I shall not,” Bane rumbles, pressing the grill of the mask against John’s neck.

 

John gives a little moan, melting under Bane’s strong hands and going limp against him.

 

“If you make that sound again we may not make it down to dinner,” Bane warns, pressing his fingers into the side of John’s spine again.

 

“Promises, promises.”

 

Bane growls, pulling John closer to him, his hands dropping to knead and rub over John’s ass. John grins against Bane’s shoulder, arching a little into the growing erection he can feel through Bane’s pants.

 

“I would take you right now,” Bane says, quiet and low.

 

“But?” John asks, rising onto his knees as Bane’s hands move lower.

 

“But you promised to show Talia how to make your macaroni and cheese recipe.”

 

John laughs, biting the thick muscle of Bane’s trapezius. “Once again my sex life is foiled by mac and cheese.”

 

“She will go to bed eventually,” Bane tells him.

 

“You sure about that? She’s bouncing off the walls down there. If we hooked her up to the generator she could power the whole house.”

 

“How efficient.” Bane raises an eyebrow and John laughs again.

 

“Can you take that off yet? I want a kiss, but I don’t want to interrupt your therapy.”

 

“I did not know if Selina would be comfortable with me wearing it downstairs.” Bane moves to unbuckle the straps. 

 

John pulls Bane’s hands away, doing it for him and easing the mask off Bane’s face. “I’ve seen pictures of her when she had braces and headgear, you two could bond over it.”

 

Bane ducks his head, looking away.

 

“Hey,” John says, cupping his face and tilting his head up. “Who cares what anyone thinks? You need it, and that’s all that matters.”

 

“I wish I did not,” Bane says quietly.

 

“I know. But it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Can I have my kiss now?”

 

Bane smiles, letting John pull him in. It starts out slow and gentle, John just enjoying the feel of Bane’s uneven mouth on his own. When he latches onto Bane’s lower lip, sliding it between his teeth and sucking gently, Bane’s hands tighten, grinding John against him.

 

From there the kiss gets slick and filthy, John seeking out friction in little thrusts while Bane runs his fingers up and down the seat of John’s jeans, the ghost of pressure enough to have John panting. Something crashes downstairs and John pulls back with a gasp. Bane tilts his head when Barsad’s voice travels up the stairs, loud, but muddled by the music that’s still playing.

 

“I guess we should get down there,” John says, kissing Bane’s cheek where there’s a red mark from one of the mask’s straps. “Before they come looking for us.”

 

“You go, I will be a few minutes.” Bane stands, depositing John on the floor.

 

John’s eyes drop to the bulge in Bane’s pants. “You better save that for me.”

 

Bane huffs out a surprised laugh. “I need to finish my therapy,” he clarifies.

 

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” John grins and adjusts his own cock.

 

“Go, little bird, before you get yourself into trouble.” Bane picks the mask up and fits it to his face once more.

 

“Oh, I think I can handle myself.” He winks at Bane before he leaves, taking his time on the stairs to ensure he’s decent.

 

Talia corners him as soon as he hits the bottom step and they join Barsad and Selina in the kitchen. Selina’s pretty useless in front of a stove, but she chats animatedly with Barsad about his motorbike while he bastes the turkey and peels potatoes. John has Talia read the recipe for the macaroni and cheese, and together they make it from scratch. John catches Bane watching them with a fond smile on his face as Talia spreads breadcrumbs over the top, and he has to admit that the warm feeling in his chest comes from how domestic and comfortable they all seem. It’s something he’s certain he could get used to.

 

There’s no television in the house, so they play boardgames in the living room until dinner is ready. Barsad is a sore loser, and Talia an even worse winner. She dances around the room, sticking her tongue out at them when her token reaches the end of the board first and Bane has to take her aside and explain to her what good sportsmanship means. She pouts a little when John wins the next game, but when Barsad announces that dinner is ready, her displeasure drops away and she’s the first one to the table.

 

After dinner, they gather around the Christmas tree and let Talia open one of her gifts. They all ooh and ahh over her new blanket from Barsad, an intricate quilt patterned into a fairy flying through the night sky. Talia dons it as a cape and insists she has to write a letter to leave for Santa along with his milk and cookies.

 

Bane takes her upstairs to tuck her in, and John cleans up the games while Barsad and Selina tackle the dishes. When Bane comes back down, he wraps his arms around John from behind, pressing a kiss to the top of John’s head and pulling him down into his lap again. 

 

Selina comes in with a tray of hot buttered rums and Barsad follows close behind with the rest of the Christmas cookies. There’s a fire in the grate, and John’s warm and content, drowsing against Bane on the couch when Selina yawns and excuses herself to the guest room for the night. Barsad stops to pick up Talia’s letter before he heads upstairs, his eyebrows rising. He hands the letter to Bane with a smile and snags two of Santa’s cookies.

 

John reads Talia’s carefully written words over his shoulder.

 

_ Dear Santa, _

_ Thank you for my family. _

 

_ Talia al Ghul _

 

John squeezes Bane’s hand. “Did you ever think you could have so much joy in your life?”

 

Bane turns to look at him, his eyes soft and fond. “I did not. But I did not know it was missing until Talia arrived. And then I met you.”

 

John flushes. “One good thing leads to the next?”

 

“Indeed.”

 

John smiles, brushing his thumb over Bane’s cheek. “We should go to sleep.”

 

Bane catches his hand, kissing John’s fingers and making him shiver. “We should go to bed.”

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a day late! Here, have some smut!

John doesn’t get nervous until Bane closes the bedroom door. They’d set out the gifts from Santa, locked up the house, and checked on Talia, and now Bane’s standing there, six feet and however many inches of pure, fucking, want. John can feel it radiating off him as he watches John move. Like Bane’s stalking him, getting ready to pounce.

 

But he doesn’t pounce. Instead, he engages the small lock he’s installed on the door and lowers his gaze.

 

“That’s handy,” John says, nodding at the lock.

 

Bane’s smile is small, but wry. “Barsad suggested we take precautions if we’re going to have overnight guests.”

 

“Probably not a bad idea.” John bites his lip, looking everywhere but at Bane.

 

“Do you wish for me to sleep elsewhere?” Bane asks, and the worry in his voice has John crossing the room.

 

He wraps his arms around Bane’s waist, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest. “Absolutely not. I’m just a little nervous. Sorry, I didn’t realize it was so obvious.”

 

Bane cups John’s face in his large hands, kissing him chastely. “Nothing has to happen.”

 

“But I want it to,” John blurts, flushing.

 

Bane chuckles, kissing him again. “Let’s get ready for bed and see where the night takes us.”

 

John smiles, relaxing at Bane’s words. He can do that. Being with Bane is easy and natural, and this shouldn’t feel any different. Neither one of them are novices, and it’s not even their first time together. There’s just something about going to bed, in Bane’s house, with Talia down the hall that feels oddly domestic. John’s never really done domestic before. Not like this, and every movement feels weighted and meaningful. 

 

Bane pulls his shirt over his head, his large body a symphony of shifting muscles that John can’t help but tune into. Bane makes an amused sound, flexing a little as he undoes his pants and drops them to the floor. He growls quietly when John licks his lips.

 

“Now you.”

 

John nods, eyes unable to focus on anything but Bane’s half hard cock. It’s growing under John’s gaze, and it’s making his mouth water. Bane grows impatient when John stops undressing for the third time, moving in to pull his shirt off and pushing John back on the bed to wrangle his pants to the floor.

 

John laughs, sliding his hand over Bane’s bare scalp as he’s tugged and pushed up the bed. Bane lays down beside him, gathering John in his arms and kissing him softly.

 

“I have waited so long to have you here,” Bane says, kissing down John’s neck.

 

John tilts his head back, hand seeking out Bane’s cock so he can feel the heat and weight of it in his palm.

 

Bane’s breath catches when John’s fingers skip down his shaft and he kisses John again, harder and more demanding this time, but John can tell he’s holding something back. He strokes Bane’s long, hard length from base to tip, rolling the foreskin between his fingers until Bane groans and pulls John on top of him.

 

It’s harder then, to move his hand with any kind of finesse, but John’s determined, and soon Bane is rocking into his hand while his tongue plunders John’s mouth. As soon as precome starts to leak out of the tip, John pulls back, strandling Bane, and watching the glorious length of him while his hand work.

 

“I want to taste you,” John whispers, shifting lower. “Is that okay?”

 

Bane nods, his eyes wide as John’s mouth closes around the head of his cock. He jerks at the first thrust, but John stays steady, working the shaft as he licks all around the tip, sliding his tongue under Bane’s foreskin.

 

Bane’s hands are in his hair, tugging sharply when John does something he likes, and it’s not long before Bane pulling him off and dragging him back up for a frantic kiss.

 

“I want you,” John gasps when Bane’s teeth sink into his lower lip. “God, I want you so much.”

 

“Then you shall have me.” Bane’s hands slide down his back to his ass, squeezing gently. “I took the liberty of preparing for that possibility.”

 

“Okay, good,” John says, coming back to himself a little. Bane’s not exactly average sized, and it’s been awhile since John’s had anything in his ass. He refuses to give Barsad the opportunity to comment on the hitch in his step tomorrow if they don’t go slow. “I think patience and a lot of lube is the way to go.”

 

“My thoughts exactly.” Bane kisses John’s cheek and pushes him back, grabbing a bottle of lube from under his pillow and spreading his legs.

 

“Huh?” John frowns, eyes going from the bottle in Bane’s hand to the space between his legs, hidden by Bane’s heavy sack.

 

Bane stills, looking confused. “Is this not agreeable?”

 

“You, want me to fuck you?” John blurts, incredulously.

 

“Yes,” Bane answers slowly. “I prepared myself earlier.”

 

John looks up, noting the faint blush on the Bane’s cheeks, his mouth going dry. “You mean you worked yourself open and then walked around slick and ready to be fucked without me knowing?”

 

Bane tilts his head. “Should I have informed you earlier?”

 

“Fuck no!” John laughs, unable to believe this is happening. “If you’d told me earlier I would have hauled you up here and bent you over the side of the bed. Fuck, Bane, I had no idea.”

 

Bane looks smug, spreading his legs a little further apart until John can’t help himself, and he runs his hand up the inside of Bane’s massive thigh, seeking out the wetness he now knows is there.

 

“Can I?” he asks before pushing two fingers into Bane’s heat, feeling him clench around him. “Jesus, you’re soaking.”

 

“I wanted to be thorough,” Bane says, throwing his head back as John spreads his fingers and pulls back out.

 

“Your attention to detail is admirable,” John tells him, voice a gone deep and raspy. “Do you need any more?”

 

“I believe it will be sufficient.”

 

“Okay, um, do you have any condoms?” 

 

“Those will not be necessary,” Bane tells him, taking the lube back and slicking up his hand.

 

Whatever John is about to say is cut off when Bane’s hand engulfs his cock, spreading the lube around.

 

“Barsad hacked into your medical files. You’re clean.”

 

John chokes on his surprise. “What? How did he do that?”

 

Bane raises and eyebrow and squeezes John’s cock. “Do you really wish to discuss this now?”

 

John shakes his head as Bane starts stroking him again. 

 

“I have never done this with another and therefore am also free of disease.” 

 

Something flickers in the back of John’s mind, but the movement of Bane’s hand is mesmerizing and he’s having a hard time thinking straight. Bane’s pulling him forward and lining John’s cock up against his entrance before John realizes what he just said.

 

“Wait, you’ve never done this before? As in this is your first time?” John pulls back a little, whimpering when Bane’s hand slides off his cock.

 

“Yes,” Bane answers, wrapping his legs around John’s waist.

 

“But… huh? Wait, just wait a minute. You’ve never been fucked before?” John’s slowly realizing they should have had this conversation before they were both naked and in bed because his dick is throbbing and all he wants to do is sink inside Bane.

 

“I had never been with another before you, little bird.”

 

John thinks back to Bane’s sloppy, but effective blowjob, and his silence and shock at their fumbling in the woods. “Oh, shit.”

 

“What is it?” Bane asks, brow furrowed.

 

“Well, this is kind of a big deal, right? I mean, god, I wish you’d told me.” John runs a hand through his hair in agitation.

 

“Why?” 

 

“Because it’s a big deal, that’s why!” John tells him, louder than necessary.

 

“Why?” Bane repeats patiently.

 

John stops and thinks about it. He didn’t feel different after his first time, and if he’s honest, he doesn’t remember much about it other than he was sure the next guy was more liberal with the lube. He looks down at Bane, flushed and still hard beneath him, and it hits John then that he loves him. Bane is big, and solid, immovable in most things, but he’s also shown John that he can be soft and extremely loving. John thinks he might be the only person Bane’s willingly been vulnerable in front of and John’s ruining it. Bane’s an adult who decided he wanted John to fuck him and took the time to prep himself so he’d be ready.

 

“I love you,” John blurts.

 

Bane’s eyes go wide and then he’s sitting up and kissing John with such force that it knocks him backwards.  _ This is it _ , he thinks. This is what Bane was holding back before. He can tell he’s right because Bane’s kisses are more demanding, his hands roaming freely on John’s body. Bane’s heavy on top of him, but instead of feeling crushed or claustrophobic, John feels incredible secure and protected. 

 

“I love you, John Blake,” Bane whispers, pressing his forehead to John’s.

 

John cups the back of his neck, kissing Bane slowly as he reaches between them and takes hold of his cock. Bane’s breath stutters when John presses against his hole, but he doesn’t flinch. Bane takes a deep breath and lowers himself swiftly until John’s inside him, hips flush with Bane’s ass.

 

“Are you okay?” John asks, his voice strained as he fights the urge to come right then and there.

 

Bane hums and nods his head, taking long breaths while he adjusts. John’s just about to ask if he needs the mask when Bane moves his hips, rising up on John’s cock and sliding back down with a groan. John’s mind shorts out and his fingers dig into Bane’s thighs.

 

“Fuuccckkk,” John groans when Bane does it again.

 

“This pleases you?” Bane asks, sounding a little breathless.

 

“God, yes. You’re perfect.”

 

Bane grinds down with more force, making John jerk, his eyes popping open. Bane’s a vision above him, looking calm and perfectly in control save for the high colour in his cheeks and the sweat popping out on his brow.

 

“Come on, baby,” John thrusts up into him, making Bane gasp. “Take what you need.”

 

One of Bane’s large hands grips John’s shoulder while the other reaches back to brace himself of John’s thigh. Bane rolls his hips, his ass hot and tight around John as he rides him. He’s glorious up there, a sight John didn’t think he’d see in a million years, but if Bane’s happy getting fucked by him, then John will do it gladly.

 

“Can I touch you?” John asks, his hand already reaching for Bane’s cock. It’s rock hard and leaking all over John’s belly and he thinks he’s definitely going to need to sit on it soon.

 

Bane watches John’s hand as he jerks him off, hips working up a steady rhythm as he fucks himself down on John.

 

John’s balls tighten up, and he grits his teeth. “I’m getting close.”

 

“Tighter,” Bane commands, speeding up. His body is moving in a wave over John, and if he wasn’t watching it happen, he’d never believe it could be true. Bane looks wanton, gasping and snarling softly as he uses John’s body to chase his orgasm. It’s the sexiest thing John’s ever seen, and he moves both hands to Bane’s cock, twisting and pulling until Bane is coming, hot and slick over his fingers and across his stomach. Bane’s ass is clenching around him and it’s all he can do to hold on.

 

Bane starts to slow down, one last spurt of come coating John’s fingers before he stills.

 

“Can I,” John pants, his own need screaming for release. “Can I turn you over.”

 

Bane hums and allows himself to be pushed onto his back once more, making a pleased noise when John presses Bane’s heels to his ass to open him up and sinks back in. Bane’s hands go to John’s hips, pulling him in again and again, and John bends down to kiss him, their noses bumping together.

 

“Was it good?”

 

Bane smiles up at him. “It still is.”

 

John bites his lip and speeds up, plunging into Bane until legs circle his waist, pulling him deeper and making him gasp. Even after coming, Bane’s so tight it almost hurts, and John can’t help but fuck into him faster and harder, wanting to leave his mark. He wants to fill Bane up until he’s leaking, and John’s never felt that urge before, but he thinks he could get used to it. 

 

Bane pets at his face and hair, murmuring soft words of encouragement until John whines, high and loud, and comes in a violent rush inside him. Bane holds him close until long after John’s gone soft and slipped out, both of them taking their time to catch their breath and revel in what they just shared. 

 

Bane kisses him softly, mouthing across John’s cheek to his jaw, rubbing soothing circles over his back. John reluctantly pulls away when he starts to nod off.

 

“We should clean up,” he says, apologetically. 

 

Bane strips the comforter off the bed and unlocks the door before crawling under the covers. John cleans himself up quickly, not wanting to be far from Bane any longer than necessary. He’s back in bed and wrapped up in Bane’s arms when he starts to giggle, pressing his face to Bane’s chest.

 

“Little bird?”

 

John shakes his head. The entire room smells like Bane, and him, and sex, and he can’t believe he gets to have this.

 

“I’m just happy,” he explains. “Just really fucking happy.”

 

Bane gives him a smug smile and tucks John’s head under his chin. “I wish to keep you that way.”

 

John grins into the skin of Bane’s neck, knowing he’s never letting this man go.


	16. Chapter 16

When Talia wakes them up by jumping on the bed and shrieking about Santa, presents, and snow, John thanks his lucky stars that he had the foresight to insist they put underwear on before finally falling asleep.

 

Bane sends her to wake Barsad and rolls on top of John, giving him a lengthy and in-depth good morning kiss.

 

“We should get downstairs before she comes back in here,” John says, unable to keep the smile from his face. “I’m not going to be decent if we keep this up.”

 

“Hmm, I may need to take you with me the next time I must go to the mainland overnight. I enjoy waking up with you.” Bane kisses him again, his hand sliding down John’s chest.

 

John laughs when Bane’s fingers skim his navel, tickling him. “Stop it, we have to unwrap presents.”

 

“I wish to unwrap you,” Bane growls, his hand sliding into John’s boxers.

 

“Baaaaane! Joooohn!” Talia’s voice calls from the bottom of the stairs.

 

Bane freezes, then slowly retracts his hand, patting John on the stomach. “Later.”

 

“You can owe me,” John tells him, grabbing a quick kiss and sliding out of bed to pull on a pair of sweats and t-shirt.

 

When they get downstairs, Barsad has Talia over his shoulder while Selina laughs at their antics. Bane goes straight to the coffee machine and John nearly gets one of Talia’s feet to the face as Barsad swings her around.

 

“What’s all the shouting about this morning?” John asks. “Is today special or something?”

 

“It’s Christmas!” Talia giggles, being lowered to the sit on the counter.

 

“Christmas? Hmm, why does that seem familiar?” John taps his chin.

 

“Because Santa came!” Talia squeals, throwing her hands in the air and squirming around.

 

“Did you hear him?” Selina asks her and Talia shakes her head.

 

“I did,” Barsad says, looking right at John. “He was particularly loud during his visit. There was a lot of cursing and moaning.”

 

“Must have stubbed a toe or something,” Selina adds with a smirk, grabbing milk for their coffee from the fridge.

 

John grins, leaning closer to Barsad. “Jealous?”

 

Barsad’s eyes flick over to Selina and he flushes.

 

“That’s what I thought.” John smirks and goes over to Bane, wrapping his arms around him from behind and kissing his shoulder.

 

“Less kissing, more opening presents!” Talis demands.

 

“Breakfast first,” Bane tells her.

 

Talia’s jaw drops. “How am I supposed to eat with all those presents waiting to be opened?”

 

“I’m with Talia,” John says, holding out an empty mug. “Presents, then breakfast.”

 

Bane huffs and pours John some coffee. “Very well.”

 

“Yes!” Talia jumps off the counter and runs out the door.

 

They settle in and let Talia open all her presents first. She thanks John multiple times for the fairy house he built her, and makes him promise to hang it in her room after breakfast. Bane practically beams when Talia opens the books from him and promptly forgets about all her other gifts and starts reading.

 

Once all the presents are opened and the detritus cleared away, John and Bane go back into the kitchen to make breakfast, sharing the task and moving around each other with an easy grace. John grins into his third cup of coffee as they all sit down and dig in. Selina and Barsad are deep in conversation about pre-World War I gas tanks and Bane is listening raptly to Talia describe the kind of fairy she hopes to draw in with her new house.

  
This time last year, John’s life was moving in a completely different direction. Six months ago he would have sworn his chance at true love had passed. But today he’s surrounded by family and friends and he can’t help but feel like it’s the beginning of a new life, for all of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who stuck with me through this fic! I hope you all enjoyed all this schmoop with Bane and John and that it brightened you days. Happy Holidays!


End file.
